


Nojaw's Story

by Lightfyre



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: animal cruelty in one chapter, some really gory scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 71,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightfyre/pseuds/Lightfyre
Summary: Snowpaw is a ShadowClan apprentice enthusiastic to become a warrior. However, when he is attacked by dogs and has his lower jaw ripped off, he is not expected to survive. Despite the odds, Snowpaw learns to live and defend himself without a jaw, and becomes the fearsome warrior known as Nojaw.





	1. Allegiances

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins about a year and a half before the events of Dawn's Awakening, and ends several months after. It is also set years after the "A Vision of Shadows" arc, so there will be a mix of original and canon characters in this story. Some minor characters that died in canon may be alive here, and things such as family relationships and statuses of the characters will not be accurate to canon. Remember that this is an AU.

**ShadowClan**

Leader: Tigerstar- dark brown tabby tom  
Deputy: Scorchclaw- large dark ginger tom  
Medicine cat: Puddleshine- brown tom with white splotches  
Apprentice, Quietsnow- white she-cat with gray eyes

Warriors: 

Beenose- white she-cat with black ears  
Birchbark- beige tom  
Blackfang- black tom  
Fireberry- ginger tabby she-cat  
Apprentice, Daypaw  
Goldendawn- golden tabby she-cat with bright amber eyes  
Juniperclaw- black tom  
Lioneye- yellow she-cat  
Apprentice, Flamepaw  
Mintwhisker- light gray tom with pale green eyes  
Sleekwhisker- sleek yellow she-cat  
Strikestone- brown tabby tom  
Strongfoot- burly light gray tom with huge paws  
Apprentice, Nightpaw  
Tawnyclaw- beige tom  
Yarrowleaf- ginger she-cat 

Apprentices:  
Daypaw- cream colored she-cat  
Flamepaw- ginger she-cat  
Nightpaw- black tom 

Queens:  
Glowpelt- white she-cat with bright green eyes  
Mother to Snowkit (white tom with yellow eyes) and Aspenkit (light gray tom with green eyes)

Darkbriar- dark brown tabby she-cat  
Mother to Newtkit (sandy brown tabby with black stripes), Robinkit (dark brown tabby tom), and Palekit (pale brown she-cat)

Elders  
Mistcloud- spiky-furred pale gray she-cat  
Rippletail- white tom 

 

**ThunderClan**

Leader: Sparkstar- ginger tabby she-cat  
Deputy: Sapheart- dark brown tom with gold mottling  
Medicine cat: Deerpelt- wiry light brown she-cat

 

**WindClan**

Leader: Olivestar- golden brown tom  
Deputy: Slickpelt- slick-furred gray tom  
Medicine cat: Smallberry- small dark brown tabby she-cat

 

**RiverClan**

Leader: Coldstar- dark gray tom  
Deputy: Shaleclaw- dark gray tabby tom  
Medicine cat: Fernlight- light brown tabby she-cat with soft green eyes

 

**Cats outside the Clans**

Rogues:

Rambo- massive russet colored tom  
Diamond- white she-cat with small black spots  
Spook-black tom  
Rocky- mottled grayish-brown tom  
George- golden tabby tom  
Tufty- old, mostly hairless tom with patches of white fur 

Kittypets:  
Sylvia- silver tabby she-cat  
Spicy- dark red tabby tom  
Nacho- light brown tabby tom-kit  
Taco- dark red tabby tom-kit  
Tequila- silver tabby she-kit

 **Other animals**

Ralph- old floppy eared dog


	2. Chapter 2

“Mother, what’s all this stuff!?” 

Snowkit poked his head out of the nursery, gasping at the white, thick substance that covered their camp and dusted the pine trees surrounding it. 

“That’s snow,” his mother, Glowpelt, purred form behind him. Her white fur shone brightly in the leafbare sun. “It’s what you’re named after.”

Snowkit reached out and touched it with a paw. “It’s cold!” he cried. 

“Wow!” Snowkit’s brother, Aspenkit, leapt out of the nursery and landed in the snow. “Aaah, it’s freezing!” he cried. 

“I told you it was cold, toad-brain,” Snowkit laughed. He jumped and pounced on his brother, and the two little toms rolled around, sending bits of snow flying. 

“Take that, ThunderClan warrior!” Aspenkit pressed his brother’s face into the snow. Snowkit went limp, waiting until his brother cried out, “I win!” before giving Aspenkit a hard kick in the stomach. Aspenkit went flying and landed with his head in a snowdrift. 

“No, I win,” Snowkit purred. 

Aspenkit let out a little growl of frustration, his hind legs flailing as he tried to wriggle out of the snowdrift.

Snowkit turned his head as he saw a hunting patrol returning. They were led by the deputy, a large, muscular dark ginger tom named Scorchclaw. A large crow was dangling from his jaws. 

“Look, the warriors are back!” Snowkit cried to Aspenkit, who had finally freed himself. 

“Whoa!” Aspenkit shook bits of snow from his light gray coat. “That’s a huge bird that Scorchclaw caught!” 

“Why don’t we go to the fresh-kill pile and see all of what they brought?” Glowpelt suggested to her kits.

“I hope there are frogs,” said Aspenkit as he bounced alongside his mother. “They’re my favorite!” 

“Yuck!” Snowkit wrinkled his nose. “Frogs are all slimy and gross!”

“No they’re not!” Aspenkit insisted.

“You’re weird,” Snowkit teased, playfully swiping at his brother.

The fresh-kill pile was small that day, as the cold kept away most of the prey. However, being a queen and kits, Glowpelt and her sons got first choice. The kits followed their mother back to the nursery as she carried a dove. 

“I can’t wait to be an apprentice and go out on patrols!” Aspenkit cried.

“Shhh.” Glowpelt motioned with her tail to where a dark tabby queen, Darkbriar, was asleep in her nest with her three much younger kits. 

“I want my name to be Aspenpelt!” Aspenkit whispered to his mother. “Because your name is Glowpelt!”

Glowpelt purred. “Well, it’ll be up to Tigerstar to decide your warrior name.” 

“Why do we have to wait so long to become apprentices?” said Snowkit as they tucked into the dove. 

“Because being a warrior is dangerous,” said Glowpelt, fixing her sons with a stern bright green gaze. “You have to get big and strong before you can start training.”

“But I’m already strong,” said Snowkit, squaring his already muscular shoulders.

“I can see that,” Glowpelt purred. “Don’t worry, you and your brother only have two moons to go before you can become apprentices.”

“We’re gonna make you proud, Mama!” said Aspenkit.

“I know you will,” said Glowpelt warmly. Suddenly, she let out a cough. Darkbriar’s ears twitched, and she raised her head. 

“Are you feeling alright, Glowpelt?” she said. “You’ve had that cough for two sunrises now. You ought to go to the medicine den.”

“Puddleshine gave me something for it yesterday,” said Glowpelt. “It isn’t that bad. If it gets worse, I’ll talk to him.” 

Darkbriar narrowed her eyes. “Well, you’d better keep an eye on it. We can’t have it spreading to the kits.”

Glowpelt nodded and then returned to the dove. When they were finished eating, Snowkit and Aspenkit went back outside. They tumbled in the snow for a bit, and then watched two of ShadowClan's apprentices, Daypaw and Nightpaw, having a mock battle from across the clearing. Daypaw ducked swiftly as Nightpaw aimed a blow at her. She jumped forward and knocked her brother off her paws, sending him flying into a snowdrift. 

“Nightpaw! Use your hind feet!” Nightpaw’s mentor Strongfoot told him. 

Nightpaw kicked out his hind feet, still buried under the snow, as Daypaw jumped on him again. 

“Isn’t Strongfoot our father?” Snowkit asked Glowpelt quietly. “Why doesn’t he ever come watch Aspenkit and I practice?”

“He’s busy,” Glowpelt replied, but her gaze hardened as she looked towards Strongfoot. 

“I heard Darkbriar say toms are useless and make she-cats raise kits all by themselves,” said Aspenkit. 

“Shh!” Glowpelt hissed. “Don’t say things like that out loud!” 

“Well…if I ever have kits, I’m going to be a good father to them!” said Aspenkit.

Glowpelt’s gaze softened, and she gave him a lick. “I’m sure you will,” she said warmly. 

Snowkit kept watching as Strongfoot instructed Nightpaw. The huge, burly, light gray tom sat with his tail curled around his huge paws, a spark of pride in his eyes as he watched his apprentice train. 

I hope I’m as strong as him one day, Snowkit hoped. 

“Daypaw! Remember the move I taught you!” said a tabby ginger she-cat named Fireberry, who was Daypaw’s mentor. Daypaw ducked as Nightpaw sprang at her, rolling to the side and then kicking out at Nightpaw’s side, sending him collapsing into the snow. 

“Aw man,” Nightpaw panted. “Daypaw, why do you have to be better than me?”

Daypaw licked her paw and ran it over her ear. “Because she-cats are more powerful than toms, don’t you know?” 

“True that,” Fireberry purred. 

“Alright, let’s go back in,” said Glowpelt, nudging her kits back towards the nursery as a freezing wind ruffled their pelts. “It’s getting colder.” 

“Do you think Strongfoot might be my mentor?” Snowkit asked his mother as they settled back into their nest.

Glowpelt shook her head. “Fathers don’t usually mentor their kits.”

“Why not?” Snowkit felt his heart sink a little. 

“I think it’s because leaders are worried that they’ll go too easy on them,” said Glowpelt. “Training should never be an easy thing, because being a warrior isn’t easy.” 

“I hope I can do it,” said Snowkit.

Glowpelt gave him a lick. “You can do anything you put your mind to, Snowkit. You too Aspenkit.”

“I hope I get one of the cool warriors for my mentor,” said Aspenkit as he yawned and snuggled into Glowpelt’s fur. “Maybe Tigerstar will give me Strikestone, or Juniperclaw, or Blackfang…”

“I’m going to be the best warrior ever,” murmured Snowkit as he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A few sunrises later, Snowkit and Aspenkit were awakened by Glowpelt stirring. The white queen let out a few wet sounding coughs. 

“Mother, are you okay?” asked Snowkit.

Glowpelt nodded as she stepped out of the nest. “Go back to sleep,” she told her sons, her voice sounding oddly raspy. “I’m just going to see Puddleshine for something to help   
my cough.” 

Snowkit watched as his mother left the nursery, concern causing his soft white fur to bristle. Glowpelt’s cough had been worsening, and the night before, her pelt had felt hot. 

“She’ll be okay,” said Aspenkit. Snowkit settled back into the next and curled against his brother for warmth. But when they awoke later, Glowpelt still hadn’t returned.

“Where’s our Mother?” Snowkit asked Darkbriar. 

“She’s feeling sick,” the dark tabby queen replied. “She’s going to stay in Puddleshine’s den for a bit.”

“Let’s go see her!” Snowkit cried, jumping out of the nest. 

“Stay in here!” Darkbriar called. “You don’t want to bother her while she’s sick!”

But the two kits ignored her, and went running out of the nursery, hopping through the thick snow across the camp towards the medicine den. 

“Where are you two going in such a hurry?” That was Mistcloud, a spiky-furred pale gray elder. She narrowed her eyes at the kits. 

“Our mother is sick!” Aspenkit cried. “We’re going to see her!” 

Mistcloud gave them a sympathetic glance. “I’ll go and ask Puddleshine if she’s well enough for visitors.” 

The kits waited in anticipation as Mistcloud went over to the medicine den and poked her head in. A few moments later, she turned to the kits and nodded. They bounded over to the den, slipping inside to see Glowpelt lying in a bed of moss. Puddleshine, the ShadowClan medicine cat, was crouched over her as she coughed fitfully. His blue eyes looked worried, but they lit up when he saw the kits.

“Glowpelt, I think you have some visitors,” he said.

Glowpelt turned around, purring as her kits nuzzled against her.

“Mother, what’s wrong with you?” Snowkit asked. 

“I have a bad cough,” she said. “But don’t worry, Puddleshine is making me better.”

“When will you come back to the nursery?” Aspenkit asked.

“I don’t know, love,” said Glowpelt. “But you won’t have to wait too long, don’t worry. Darkbriar will look after you until then.”

“Alright, kits,” said another white she-cat as she came up behind the kits. It was Quietsnow, Puddleshine’s apprentice. “Your mother needs to be left alone so she can get better,” she said gently. “You can come visit her later.”

Snowkit and Aspenkit gave Glowpelt one last nuzzle, and then slowly turned and left the den. Across the camp, they saw Strongfoot leading Nightpaw out of the camp, listening to his apprentice as the young black cat talked excitedly to him. Snowkit frowned. Wasn’t Strongfoot worried about Glowpelt, too? She was his mate, after all. Or had he already visited her?

Snowkit and Aspenkit wrestled outside the nursery for a bit, but didn’t have much energy. Eventually, they got bored. 

“Wanna go back in the nursery?” Snowkit suggested.

“What’s there to do in there, besides get bossed around by Darkbriar?” Aspenkit growled. “She’s grumpy. All she’ll do is make us be quiet and nap.” 

Snowkit sighed in agreement. 

“Hey, I have an idea!” Aspenkit whispered. “Why don’t we go find and catch some fresh-kill for Mother? It might make her feel better!”

“But where are we going to find fresh-kill?” Snowkit asked, confused.

“We’ll hunt it ourselves!” said Aspenkit. “Let’s sneak out of the camp and find some!”

“But we’re not allowed to leave the camp until we’re apprentices!” Snowkit reminded his brother. 

“So?” said Aspenkit. “We can sneak out when no one’s looking. If we catch something good for Mother, she’ll be so happy, and we won’t get in trouble! The Clan will be happy that we caught something, since food is so scarce lately.”

“Are you sure?” said Snowkit.

“Positive,” said Aspenkit. 

The two kits glanced around the camp. Most of the warriors were out hunting or on patrol. Mistcloud had gone back into the elder’s den. A warrior named Birchbark was sitting at the entrance to the camp, staring straight ahead into the clearing, but turned his head as another warrior, Yarrowleaf, came over to talk to him. Snowkit and Aspenkit took that opportunity to sneak over to the camp barrier, made of thick, thorny brambles. They were small enough to squeeze through a gap between the branches, although Snowkit snagged his fur on a thorn and bit down on his tongue to keep from squeaking in pain. He wriggled free, leaving a tuft of white fur behind, and followed his brother into the forest. 

“Wow! We’re outside the camp!” Aspenkit cried, bouncing through the shadows of the pine trees that covered their territory. Snowkit followed, the forest floor feeling surprisingly springy beneath his paws. There was a lot less snow here, as the trees were much closer together, and the thick pine branches acted as a shield against the weather.   
“Come on, let’s go find the lake!” Aspenkit and Snowkit raced each other through the trees, sending up loose pine needles as they skittered across the marshy ground. 

“Whoa!” Aspenkit skidded to a halt when they came to a clearing. Snowkit nearly crashed into him. He was about to snap at his brother, but then gasped when he saw the sight before him. The trees gave away to a stretch of glistening golden sand, and beyond that was the most enormous pool of water Snowkit had ever seen. It was completely frozen solid, and stretched out as far as the kits could see, reflecting the pale gray winter sky. On the opposite shore, in the distance, Snowkit could see sloping hills, as well as an island with tall trees. 

“This must be the lake!” Aspenkit breathed. 

“I think that’s where all the Clans meet for Gatherings!” Snowkit pointed to the island with a paw. 

“I can’t wait until we’re old enough to go to a Gathering!” Aspenkit cried. 

“Me neither,” Snowkit agreed. 

The kits followed the shore, drinking in all the fascinating new smells that came to them. Suddenly, a thick, oily scent came to their noses. 

“Blech!” Aspenkit cried, wrinkling his nose. “What is that?” 

“I think we’re getting close to RiverClan territory,” said Snowkit. “It doesn’t smell like ShadowClan anymore.”

“We better not go there,” said Aspenkit. “I heard their deputy Shaleclaw is really mean!” 

“Do you think I could be deputy someday?” Snowkit asked as the kits turned back into the pine forest. 

“Not if I become deputy first!” Aspenkit playfully lunged at his brother and grabbed Snowkit’s ear in his teeth. The two of them wrestled on the sandy ground, pummeling each other with their hind feet.

“Wait, we’re supposed to be find fresh kill for Mother,” said Aspenkit mid kick. 

“Oh yeah.” Snowkit got off his brother and began to sniff the air. He knew what several different prey smelled like, and had caught insects before, but he wondered if they’d be able to catch anything larger than that. Suddenly, they heard the rustling of undergrowth nearby. 

“A patrol’s coming!” Aspenkit hissed. “We’d better hide!”

The kits ducked under a bramble bush as a patrol walked past, led by Scorchclaw. Snowkit was silently impressed by the size of a raven that a warrior named Strikestone was carrying. The kits held their breath, remaining still until the patrol walked out of sight. Then, they crawled out from under the bush and continued on their hunt.

“Whoa, what’s this!?” Snowkit exclaimed when they found a long, dusty pathway that was neatly carved into the ground. 

“I think it’s a path that Twolegs use,” said Aspenkit. “I’ve heard the warriors talk about it.”

Snowkit bristled as suddenly, he spotted cats in a distant clearing that he didn’t recognize. 

“Who are they!?” he whispered to Aspenkit. 

“I think they’re ThunderClan warriors,” Aspenkit whispered back. The two kits crept backwards into the shadows of the pine trees, realizing they’d come to another border. They watched the patrol with a mingled feeling of nervousness and curiosity. The ThunderClan cats were stalking carefully through the snow, as if searching for prey. Suddenly, a mottled brown cat leapt up and caught a starling between its paws. The bird let out a sharp cry as both it and its captor went plummeting down into the snow. 

“That must be Sapheart, the ThunderClan deputy,” said Snowkit. “I heard Daypaw talking about him. He’s been their deputy for a long time!” 

“Hey, I think I smell a sparrow!” Aspenkit followed a trail back into ShadowClan territory, keeping his stomach low to the ground as he padded carefully along. Suddenly, Snowkit saw the sparrow, just hidden beneath a clump of snowy bracken. The small bird was nibbling at a tiny seed, its back turned to their kits. Aspenkit gathered strength up in his haunches, and then sprang. Snowkit gasped as his brother struck the sparrow’s wing with a paw. The startled bird flew up, chirping wildly as it soared away. Aspenkit jumped and grabbed at it, but it was already far out of his reach.

“Toad dung!” he spat. 

“Hey, that was pretty close,” said Snowkit. 

They ventured deep into the territory, keeping their ears and eyes open for the sounds of patrols and critters scurrying about. Suddenly, a mouse dashed just ahead of Snowkit. It skidded to a halt underneath a pine tree, stopping to scratch at its ear. Snowkit placed one paw quietly in front of the other, wriggled his haunches, and then sprang. He cried out with surprise as he landed with his front paws squarely on the mouse. The tiny creature squeaked, struggling in Snowkit’s grasp. It wriggled away, but staggered slowly, stunned by the blow Snowkit had dealt. Snowkit grabbed the mouse in its jaws, and, just as he’d seen Nightpaw do once, bit down on its neck. The mouse went limp as Snowkit heard a small snapping noise, and a warm, strange tasting liquid flooded his mouth. Bright red blood dripped over his lip. 

“Wow!” Aspenkit cried. “You caught it!”

Suddenly, a clump of bracken wrestled nearby. Something large was coming towards the kits. They huddled together, their fur spiking up, as a gray shape shot out.

“Aaah!” Both kits cried, jumping backwards. 

“What are you two doing out here?” A golden tabby she-cat with bright amber eyes was glaring at them. 

“Oh, it’s just you, Goldendawn!” Aspenkit gasped. 

“You know you’re not supposed to leave the camp!” Goldendawn hissed. “The whole Clan has been looking for you!”

“We’re sorry,” said Aspenkit, looking down at his paws. Snowkit laid the mouse down. “We wanted to catch something for our Mother,” he said. 

“Well, if you’d asked, maybe you could have gotten a warrior to help you do that,” said Goldendawn. “But you had to run off without permission and make us all worried.”

“Is our Mother getting better?” Snowkit asked quietly.

Goldendawn’s eyes suddenly softened. She let out a sigh, and said, “No, she’s getting worse.” 

“Getting worse!?” Snowkit cried. “But I thought Puddleshine and Quietsnow were making her better!”

“They’re trying,” said Goldendawn quietly. “But she’s very sick.” 

“Mother!” Aspenkit ran ahead, Snowkit following. Goldendawn followed them, calling to the kits to stay close to her. By the time they got back to camp, a solemn mood had fallen over the clearing. 

“You found them!” Darkbriar came running out of the nursery towards Goldendawn. 

“Any news about Glowpelt?” Goldendawn asked cautiously.

Darkbriar’s face looked grim. “She has greencough,” she said. 

A loud, rattling cough came from the medicine den. Snowkit and Aspenkit went running to see their mother, just as Quietsnow came out of the den. The medicine cat apprentice quickly stepped into the kits’ path. 

“You can’t get near her,” she said. “I’m sorry, but she could give her cough to you.”

“I don’t care!” Snowkit snapped, ducking down and shooting between Quietsnow’s legs. “I have to see her!” 

Snowkit and Aspenkit jumped into the nursery, where they crashed into Puddleshine. He let out a startled yowl as he dropped a mouthful of herbs.

“Mother!” The kits ran around the medicine cat to see Glowpelt curled up in a tight ball. She let out another violent cough, spewing a thick, yellow fluid from her mouth. 

“Don’t get too close to her!” Puddleshine stood between the kits and their mother. “She’s very contagious.”

“I thought you were making her better!” Aspenkit snapped. 

“I’m trying,” Puddleshine sighed. “But greencough is hard to cure. I need you two to stay out of the den so I can concentrate. I promise I will let you two know how she is as soon as anything changes.”

“Come on, little ones.” Quietsnow appeared and led the kits out of the den. “Let’s let your mother get some rest.”

“My mouse!” Snowkit suddenly realized he’d left his catch back in the forest. “I caught a mouse for her and I forgot it!”

“I’ll tell someone to go and fetch it,” said Quietsnow. “That’s impressive, that you caught a mouse! They’re rare here in ShadowClan’s territory. I’ll give it to your mother once she’s feeling better.” 

For the rest of the day, Snowkit and Aspenkit were confined to the nursery. They lay miserably in their nest, which felt cold and empty without Glowpelt. Quietsnow came in from time to time, giving them updates. When nightfall came, however, her gray eyes were heavy with sadness.

“Snowkit, Aspenkit,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, but Puddleshine doesn’t think your mother will make it through the night.” 

“No!” Snowkit shrieked. “She has to make it! Puddleshine said he’d make her better!”

“He’s done all he can,” said Quietsnow, her voice breaking. “But she isn’t responding to his herbs. Puddleshine says you can come in now, to see her as she prepares to go to StarClan.”

Snowkit followed his brother and Quietsnow across the clearing. He felt dazed, as if this were some sort of bizarre nightmare. He waited for Glowpelt to wake him up with a gentle lick, but the weight of the reality came crashing down on him as he entered the medicine den and saw his mother lying limply in her nest, with Puddleshine crouched next to her. 

“You can talk to her, but don’t get too close,” he warned. 

“Mother, we’re here,” said Aspenkit quietly as they crept up to their mother. Glowpelt did not respond. Her eyes were shut, and she was wheezing heavily. She let out another terrible cough. 

“Please, Mother,” he whispered. “You can’t leave us. You have to stay, and watch us become apprentices!”

Quietsnow let the kits stay in her nest for the night, where they could keep an eye on their mother, while she went to sleep in the warrior’s den. Snowkit listened to her ragged, slow breathing that rattled through the den, hoping that it would become clearer and easier, but it only grew worse, dying down to a weak gurgle. He longed for her to open her eyes, for her to see their beautiful bright green gleam at least one last time, but she did not open them. He drifted off to sleep at some point, and was awoken by Puddleshine gently shaking him and Aspenkit. 

“I’m sorry, little one,” said the medicine cat, his blue eyes filled with sorrow. “Glowpelt is gone.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Oof!” Snowkit grunted as one of Darkbriar’s much smaller kits fell against his side. 

“Sorry!” the she-cat squeaked, scurrying away to continue wrestling with her brothers. 

“Palekit, watch where you’re going!” Darkbriar snapped as her daughter tripped over her mother’s forepaw. 

“Ow!” The smallest kit, Newtkit, wailed as his brother Robinkit pushed him hard to the ground. 

Snowkit sighed, tuning out the sound of Darkbriar growling at her kits to behave. A moon had passed since Glowpelt’s death. He and Newtkit hadn’t done much but lie in their nest, no longer having the energy to play or practice battle moves. The short tempered Darkbriar and her obnoxious kits were their only company. 

“Robinkit, get off me!” Newtkit cried. 

“Get off your brother!” Darkbriar scolded, grabbing Robinkit by the scruff of the neck and pulling him away. She sighed as she noticed a puddle spreading out from under Newtkit. 

“Newtkit, how many times have I had to tell you that you need to go outside to do that?” 

“I’m sorry!” Newtkit squeaked. “Robinkit knocked into me and I couldn’t hold it.” 

“You know what happens to kits who don’t do what they’ve been told?” said Robinkit with a smirk. “They get eaten by Tigerstar.”

“Our leader!?” Newtkit cried.

“No, the other Tigerstar,” said Robinkit. “Didn’t you listen to Mistcloud’s story about him? He was our leader’s grandfather, and he was the most feared cat to ever live in the Clans!”

Newtkit put his head to one side and said, “How can he eat me if he’s dead?” 

“He’ll find a way,” said Robinkit ominously. “He’s super powerful.” 

Newtkit screamed as Palekit pounced on him from behind. “Don’t eat me!” he wailed. 

“Robinkit, Palekit, stop scaring your brother!” Darkbriar snapped. “You are getting on my nerves—go outside and play.” She turned to Snowkit and Aspenkit. “And you two need to go outside too. I’m tired of you moping around the nursery all day.” 

Snowkit glared at Darkbriar as he got up and followed the other kits outside. Did she not understand how much he and Aspenkit were hurting? 

It was a beautiful day out in the ShadowClan camp. The sun had come out, and the snow was melting away. The younger kits tumbled in the slush, squeaking and pushing each other around. Snowkit and Aspenkit lay in a patch of sunlight, staring blankly ahead. 

“Come play with us!” Palekit squeaked to them.

“We’re not in the mood,” Aspenkit mumbled. 

“Come on, you’d said you’d teach us to catch prey sometime!” said Robinkit. 

“Does it look like there’s any prey around here?” Snowkit growled. 

Robinkit shrank away and went back to pummeling his siblings. Suddenly, Mistcloud came walking over to Snowkit and Aspenkit.

“Why are you two just lying there?” the old she-cat rasped. “Shouldn’t you be practicing for your apprenticeship? It’s only a moon away, you know.”

“We don’t care,” said Snowkit. “What’s the point if Mother isn’t around?”

“Do you really want to stay in the nursery forever?” Mistcloud’s voice softened slightly. “That’s no fun. You’ll enjoy being apprentices, trust me.”

“Whatever,” Aspenkit growled. “We’ll become apprentices whenever we feel like it.” 

Mistcloud opened her mouth, as if to retort back, but then she said, “Why don’t you two come with me to the elder’s den? Rippletail and I can tell you some stories. It’ll be more entertaining than just lying there.” 

Snowkit and Aspenkit reluctantly got up and walked slowly over to the elder’s den. Around the clearing, things were going as normal—Daypaw and Nightpaw were training, along with Scorchclaw’s daughter Flamepaw. Scorchclaw was gathering cats into patrols, and Tigerstar watched the Clan from high up in a tree, his amber eyes glowing as he surveyed the camp. It was as if no one else cared that Glowpelt was dead—did they expect Snowkit and Aspenkit to just forget about her? 

Mistcloud led the two kits into the shady den, where she curled up in her nest. Waking up from a nap was her mate, a white tom named Rippletail. 

“Snowkit and Aspenkit, right?” he said. “Sorry, I don’t get out much these days. My joints are always hurting.” 

The kits nodded. 

“I told them we’d share some stories with them,” said Mistcloud. “What should we tell them about, Rippletail?” 

“Um…I dunno,” Rippletail said with a yawn. 

“Robinkit said there was another Tigerstar long ago, who was our Tigerstar’s grandfather,” Snowpaw suddenly remembered. 

“Ah, there was,” said Mistcloud. “He was long dead by the time any of us were born, but everyone has heard plenty about him. He was born in ThunderClan, and he was deputy to the leader at the time, Bluestar. He was strong and fearless, but also bloodthirsty and cruel. He betrayed Bluestar and tried to kill her so he could become leader. He was banished from ThunderClan, and then he came to ShadowClan, where the elderly leader had just passed away. Tigerstar became leader to ShadowClan after StarClan granted him nine lives. Why StarClan would allow such a dangerous cat to become leader, I don’t know, but they’ve always been a bit strange, if you ask me.”

“What happened then?” Aspenkit pressed. 

“Tigerstar tried to unite the four Clans into one called TigerClan,” Mistcloud continued. “RiverClan joined, but ThunderClan and WindClan refused. They joined together as LionClan to fight TigerClan. Leading them was Firestar, who succeeded Bluestar. He was born a kittypet, but came to the forest when he was six moons old and became a powerful warrior.”

“A kittypet!?” Aspenkit gasped. “But kittypets can’t become warriors!”

“Firestar did,” Rippletail spoke up. “Tigerstar then recruited a gang of rogues that called themselves BloodClan to help take over the forest. They were led by a cat named Scourge, whose claws were reinforced with teeth from dogs that he’d killed.”

“Wow!” Snowkit gasped. 

“I don’t believe that,” Aspenkit snorted. “You’ve got cobwebs in your brain, you old tom.” 

“Rippletail is telling the truth,” said Mistcloud. “Those claws were how Tigerstar met his end. Firestar told Scourge that Tigerstar was untrustworthy. Scourge decided not to fight, and Tigerstar angrily attacked him. Even though Scourge was much smaller than Tigerstar, he won the fight. He used his claws to rip Tigerstar open from throat to tail. The wound was so great, that Tigerstar lost all nine of his lives at once.” 

Snowkit and Aspenkit both gasped. 

“Then, all of the Clans united to defeat BloodClan,” said Mistcloud. “Firestar killed Scourge, and the rest of those mangy cats fled. The forest belonged to the Clans once more.”

“But Tigerstar had kits, didn’t he?” Aspenkit tilted his head.

Mistcloud nodded. “His daughter, Tawnypelt, left ThunderClan to join ShadowClan. She was no supporter of her father, but she wanted to live in a Clan where she wouldn’t be judged for being Tigerstar’s daughter.” 

“She named one of her kits Tigerkit, in honor of Tigerstar’s good qualities,” said Rippletail. “Although evil, he was fearless and strong. His grandson is, too. He became a warrior named Tigerheart, and earned the position of leader by being a loyal, hardworking ShadowClan cat.” 

“Wow,” said Snowkit. “I hope I can be strong like him one day.”

“Train hard, and you will,” said Mistcloud. She yawned. “That’s enough stories for now, I think. I’m getting tired.” 

As Snowkit left the nursery with Aspenkit, he felt a thrill of excitement go through him. For the first time since his mother’s death, he wanted to become an apprentice again. Soon he and Aspenkit wouldn’t be confined to the camp all day, and they would be able to leave and explore the world, and learn real battle moves. 

“Come on, Aspenkit,” said Snowkit. “Let’s practice fighting. We’ll make ShadowClan proud of us!”


	5. Chapter 5

The evening had finally come. Snowkit and Aspenkit had reached their sixth moon, and were about to be made apprentices. They quivered with excitement as the full moon rose in the night sky, casting a silvery light over the ShadowClan camp. Even Darkbriar was in a good mood—she helped Snowkit and Aspenkit groom themselves until their coats shone. 

“Mother, I want to be an apprentice too!” said Robinkit.

“Hush,” Darkbriar told him. “You’re not old enough.” 

Snowkit sighed, feeling a twinge of sadness along with the anticipation. 

“I wish Mother could be here to see us become apprentices,” Snowkit sighed. 

“I’m sure she’ll be watching from StarClan,” said Darkbriar. “Go and make her proud!” 

Snowkit and Aspenkit walked out into the clearing as Tigerstar gathered all of the Clan together. He waited for the two apprentices by the base of the tree he usually addressed everyone from. He was a huge, very muscular cat, with a dark brown tabby pelt graying with age, but his eyes still burned with a fiery passion as he looked upon the two young cats. 

“The time has come to make Snowkit and Aspenkit apprentices!” said Tigerstar. “StarClan, watch over these two as they train hard to learn the ways of your noble code.”

With his tail, he motioned for Strikestone, a large brown tabby tom, and his brother, a black tom named Juniperclaw to come forward. 

“Strikestone, you will be mentor to Snowpaw,” said Tigerstar. “And Juniperclaw, you will be mentor to Aspenpaw. Both of you are noble, brave, and loyal, and I hope you will pass down these traits to your apprentices.”

Snowpaw and Aspenpaw trembled with excitement as they touched noses to their new mentors.

“Snowpaw! Aspenpaw!” The cats of ShadowClan all chanted. 

Snowpaw gazed up into the stars of Silverpelt, which twinkled brightly above. 

_Mother, I’ll make you proud!_ he promised silently. 

 

“Where are we going?” Aspenpaw bounced alongside Juniperclaw as they walked with Strikestone and Snowpaw through the shady pine forest. It was the following morning, and the new apprentices were being taken on their first patrol.

“We’re going to give you a tour of the territory,” Juniperclaw replied. The black tom purred and added, “Although some things may seem familiar to you, as this isn’t your first time out of the camp.” 

“Very funny,” Aspenpaw growled. 

The two warriors first took their apprentices to the lake, which was thawing out. The edges of the water lapped lightly at the shore, washing up pieces of ice. 

“Over there is RiverClan’s territory.” Strikestone pointed with his paw to the west, where the pine forest gave away into long reeds and tidal pools. 

“ThunderClan’s territory is to the east,” he added. “And see those hills on the other side of the lake? That’s WindClan’s territory.” 

“I wish we could explore the other territories, too,” said Snowkit as they headed back into the woods. 

“Well, you’ll get to meet cats from all the Clans at the next Gathering,” said Strikestone. “I remember my first Gathering. It was quite exciting.” 

“Will we have to fight?” Aspenpaw asked. 

“No, no,” said Juniperclaw. “There is a truce during the Gathering. All the Clans come together in peace, and share news.” 

They headed deeper into the territory, until they came across a strange stone path. 

“This is called a Thunderpath,” said Strikestone. “Twolegs use it to travel. They ride along them inside the bellies of enormous monsters, although the monsters never leave the Thunderpath, and this one isn’t used very much.” 

“Monsters?” said Aspenpaw dryly, his green eyes disbelieving. 

“They exist,” Juniperclaw reassured him. “Whether they’re animals, or something else, we aren’t sure, but we call them monsters.” 

“Up ahead is a large Twoleg nest,” said Strikestone, gesturing further down the path. “We used to avoid it because of two fierce kittypets that lived there, but it seems they aren’t around anymore. Still, it’s a good idea to avoid that place because of the Twolegs.”

A little bit beyond the Thunderpath, they came to a stop. Strikestone opened his jaws, drinking in the scents of the air. He flicked his ears, angling them towards a finch that had landed just a few fox lengths away.

“Watch me,” Strikestone whispered to the apprentices. “Put one paw in front of the other, very slowly. Careful not to create noise.” 

Strikestone crept carefully up behind the finch, which was pecking at the ground, unaware it was being stalked. He gathered strength in his haunches, keeping weight off his forepaws, and pounced, landing squarely on top of the finch. In a flash, Strikestone grabbed the bird’s neck in his jaws, and bit down hard.

“Nice!” Snowpaw said admirably. “I caught a mouse once.” 

“So I’ve heard,” said Strikestone.

“And I almost caught a sparrow,” Aspenpaw boasted. “My paw was on it, but it got away. Next time it won’t be so lucky!” 

“Well then, why don’t you two see if you can catch something on your own?” said Strikestone. He gestured with his head towards a nearby clearing. “Whoever brings something back can add it to the fresh-kill pile.”

Snowpaw and Aspenpaw sped off towards the clearing. 

“I’m going to catch something before you!” cried Aspenpaw.

“No way, I’m going to catch something before you!” said Snowpaw.

The two apprentices skidded into the clearing, sniffing around for the scents of prey. Snowpaw suddenly caught a glimpse of a brown bushy tail sticking out from under a bush. He bit back a gasp—that was a squirrel! Like mice, they were rare in ShadowClan territory. He’d only seen a patrol bring back a squirrel once. Snowpaw slowly crept ahead, remembering how Strikestone had stalked the finch. Wriggling his haunches, he flew into the air, and landed on the squirrel. It let out a frightened squeak, and slashed at Snowpaw with its surprisingly sharp claws. It slipped out from under the apprentice and darted away, but Snowpaw was faster. He struck the squirrel upside its head, sending it flying up into the air. Snowpaw leaped and caught it, biting down on his prey’s neck as he landed. 

“Look what I caught!” he trotted proudly over to Aspenpaw with the fluffy tailed creature in his jaws. He dropped the squirrel when he saw what his brother was holding.

“Whoa!” Snowpaw gasped. Aspenpaw had a long black snake clutched in his jaws. It was nearly the size and thickness of a cat’s tail.

“Can we eat snakes?” Snowpaw wondered.

Aspenpaw shrugged. “I don’t know, but I can’t wait to show Juniperclaw!”

Suddenly, distant booming noises came to Snowpaw’s ears. He turned his head, swiveling his ears to hear more clearly.

Aspenpaw laid his snake down. “What is that?”

“I don’t know,” said Snowpaw. 

“Let’s go check it out!” said Aspenpaw.

 

“We should probably be getting back to our mentors,” said Snowpaw.

“Come on, don’t be afraid!” said Aspenpaw, covering their prey with a thin layer of dirt. “We’re ShadowClan cats! We aren’t afraid of anything.” 

Snowpaw followed his brother out of the clearing, following the strange noise. It grew quite deep and ominous sounding as they approached the source. Snowpaw shivered as a cold breeze blew through his fur. He was about to tell Aspenpaw they should turn back, when his brother suddenly gestured to him with his paw. He excitedly pointed with his nose towards an opening in the trees. Snowpaw came up beside him, to see an even bigger clearing, in which four large brown creatures were crying out. They had long, droopy ears and huge jowls. A tendril was looped around each dogs’ neck, with the ends looped around pointy objects stuck in the ground. Just beyond them were some strange bright orange objects that looked somewhat like dens. 

“What are those?” Snowpaw gasped.

“I think they’re dogs,” said Aspenpaw. “Mother told us about them a few times, remember? They hang out around Twolegs a lot, and they like to eat cats.” 

“Then what are we doing here!?” Snowpaw’s fur bristled. 

“Well, these ones are attached to the ground, they can’t come over here,” said Aspenpaw. Suddenly, with a smirk, he jumped out of the trees, right in front of the dogs. 

“Ha, you can’t get us, you ugly things!” he sneered.

The dogs all turned their heads towards Aspenpaw. They lunged against their tendrils, snarling and howling wildly, globs of drool flying from their huge mouths. Snowpaw caught a glimpse of long, white fangs. 

“Um…Aspenpaw…we really should get going,” said Snowpaw. 

Suddenly, with a mighty tug, one of the dogs pulled the shiny object that its tendril was tied to out of the ground. It went flying up, sending bits of earth up with it. Aspenpaw let out a terrified screech as the dog went barreling towards him. 

“Aspenpaw!” Snowpaw cried. The dog’s jaws were about to close on his brother’s tail, but Snowpaw was there in a flash, raking his claws across the dog’s muzzle. It yelped and jumped back in surprise. 

Snap! Snap! Snap! Three terrifying sounds rang out as the dogs all broke free from their tendrils. Snowpaw and Aspenpaw were suddenly surrounded by a wall of brown fur, gleaming fangs, and small, glittering eyes as the dogs encircled them. The two young toms pressed close together, trembling violently. Suddenly, one of the dogs grabbed Aspenpaw in its jaws, and flung the gray cat high in the air. Aspenpaw let out a screech as he went soaring upwards, and then plummeted downwards into the jaws of another dog. 

“Aspenpaw!” Snowpaw screamed as another dog sank its teeth into Snowpaw’s haunch. A stabbing pain exploded in his leg, and the world became a wild blur as the dog shook him around. Snowpaw’s ears were filled with thunderous barks and Aspenpaw’s screams. The dog stopped shaking him, letting the white cat dangle from its jaws by the leg. Snowpaw gasped for breath, hearing a loud ring in his ears as his vision fogged. He felt warm blood trickle down his haunch, and the dogs’ jagged teeth digging agonizingly into his leg. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aspenpaw being flung into the air again. His brother’s body was covered in multiple gaping wounds, spraying blood as he flew into the air, and then limply went crashing back down into the dogs’ jaws. 

Suddenly, with an unearthly snarl, another dog was running over to Snowpaw. The apprentice screamed as the dog opened its jaws wide and closed them on Snowpaw’s face. Everything became dark, warm, and foul smelling. The dogs’ fangs dug deep into his face, shaking him around, as Snowpaw felt the other dog pulling hard at his leg. His consciousness was full of the spray of blood, unbearable pain, and the sound of his own screams. The dog suddenly loosened its grip slightly, and a burst of fury spread through Snowpaw. He spread his jaws, trying to bite back. Then, he felt a powerful tug at his lower jaw, which became more intense as the other dog tugged him in the other direction. Suddenly, with a horrific popping noise, Snowpaw’s mouth seemed to explode. There was an enormous spray of blood, and Snowpaw’s vision flashed red as the pain intensified tenfold. Then, everything faded to black.


	6. Chapter 6

For what seemed like a very long time, Snowpaw faded in and out of consciousness. He was faintly aware of yells and more barking, and then someone grabbing him by the scruff and dragging him away. When he came to again, he heard a chorus of panicked, shocked cries, which faded into gentle murmuring. Snowpaw’s face felt like it was on fire, throbbing with pulses that seemed to wrack his whole head. He screamed like a kit, thrashing his legs around, begging StarClan to make it stop. He felt paws pin him down, and a stream of blood pour from his mouth. Then, he felt something being forced into his mouth, and he gagged as he swallowed a bitter tasting substance. Blood filled his throat, and he gasped for breath. Someone tilted his head back, and he spat up a spray of blood, coughing and moaning. He was aware of a soothing voice in his ear, but it did nothing to dull the pain. 

“Mother!” he tried to cry out, but nothing came out of his mouth except even more blood. He felt shadows tug at his vision, and everything grew dark once more.

Every now and then, the pain would become so terrible that Snowpaw would wake up again. He’d scream and claw at the ground beneath him, until someone held him still and made him swallow something that would make him fall back asleep. He was vaguely aware of being in the medicine den and the blurry faces of Puddleshine and Quietsnow swimming above him. Finally, Snowpaw awoke, and the pain was still incredulous, but not unbearable. His mouth didn’t feel right, and his whole face was wrapped in cobwebs. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. Something was very wrong—it was as if his chin and his neck had merged together. His tongue flopped out of his mouth, twitching on the ground like a fat, pink worm. Snowpaw let out a loud groan, and suddenly, Quietsnow was at his side. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Snowpaw,” she whispered, putting a paw on his shoulder. “You’re safe, don’t worry.”

“What’s happening?” he tried to say, but it only came out as a moan. Suddenly, he remembered Aspenpaw. He lifted his head, trying to look around for his brother, but Snowpaw and Quietsnow were alone in the den. 

“Lie back down,” Quiestnow instructed him. 

Snowpaw moaned loudly, shutting his eyes. Quietsnow gently stroked his side with her tail, and told him the news he already knew. 

“Aspenpaw is dead,” she said slowly and quietly. “The two of you were attacked by dogs. Strikestone and Juniperclaw found you and got you and Aspenpaw’s body out of there. You have lost your lower jaw, Snowpaw. I know it hurts—we’ve been giving you as many poppy seeds as we can. Puddleshine had to borrow some from Deerpelt, the ThunderClan medicine cat, because we ran out. I know it seems bad, but Puddleshine didn’t think you’d survive this long. You’re strong, and you need to hold on for a little bit longer.” 

Puddleshine came in shortly afterwards, examining Snowpaw’s face and murmuring to Quietsnow. Snowpaw lay there limply, his ears buzzing as he tried to process everything he had just heard. He felt himself slipping back into unconsciousness, and welcomed its embrace. 

Snowpaw was awakened later by Quietsnow, who pressed a wad of moss soaked in water up to his mouth. 

“Drink,” she told him.

Snowpaw sucked greedily at the water, with the help of Quietsnow holding the moss against his mouth. He sucked until the moss was completely dry, and then let his head sag back to the ground, a small trickle of blood oozing out of his mouth. It seemed as if he would never stop spitting up blood. A panicked thought came to him—how was he going to eat? He couldn’t chew anymore—would he starve? He tried to ask Quietsnow what was going to happen to him, but could only manage a whimper. 

“Shhh,” the medicine cat apprentice told him, gently covering his head in soothing licks. “It’s alright. You’re being so brave, Snowpaw.”

Snowpaw drifted off to sleep again. When he woke up, Puddleshine was crouched over him him. 

“We’re going to try and help you eat, Snowpaw,” said Puddleshine. He pointed with his paw towards a small, pink pile of mush. “We’ve chewed up some fresh-kill for you. Try swallowing it.” 

Snowpaw leaned over and gave the chewed up meat a sniff. Its smell was enticing, making his stomach rumble. For the first time, he realized how hungry he was. He reached out with his tongue, pulling the mush into his mouth, and suddenly gagged and spat it out. The saliva had made it soggy and disgusting. 

“I’m sorry,” said Puddleshine sympathetically. “But you have to eat it.” 

“Here, we can sweeten it with a bit of honey.” Quietpaw reached over and took a wad of moss dripping with the golden sap. She let a few drops drip onto the meat, and Snowpaw licked it. It wasn’t much better, but Snowpaw lapped it up anyways. As he did so, he felt like his heart was breaking in half. How was he ever going to enjoy eating again if he had to do it like this for the rest of his life? He gave up eating the mush halfway through, but Puddleshine and Quietpaw made him finish. They gave him some water to help flush the food down, and then cleaned his face, wiping away yet another stream of blood, and applied fresh poultice to his wounds. Above the horrific, still throbbing pain Snowpaw felt where his jaw used to be, he could vaguely detect stinging wounds on his face and a dull ache in his haunch. 

_Why didn’t I die along with Aspenpaw!?_ he screamed at StarClan in his head.

Snowpaw slept on and off for the next few days, having feverish, distorted dreams of flashing fangs, blood, and screaming. Quietsnow stayed by his side, talking to him gently and mopping his hot pelt with a wad of cool moss. He was given water frequently, which he lapped greedily at, but he wasn’t given any more food for a while. At some point, he heard Puddleshine talking with Scorchclaw and a few other warriors outside the medicine den.

“What do you mean we can’t give him food!?” Puddleshine snapped. 

“Snowpaw is going to die,” said Scorchclaw. “That’s a fact. This snowstorm we just had has made all the prey vanish, and the Clan needs to be fed, especially Darkbriar’s kits. We’re starving—I haven’t eaten in two sunrises, and neither have most of the warriors. We can’t waste our fresh-kill on a cat just a whisker length away from StarClan.” 

“He won’t die!” Puddleshine hissed furiously. “Not if I can help it!” 

“Quiet lying to yourself,” Scorchclaw snorted. “He can’t eat, and he’ll never be able to hunt again. If I were you, I’d kill him now, and end his suffering.” 

“You’re just going to give up on him!?” Puddleshine snarled. 

“He isn’t going to live. You know that, Puddleshine.” That was Strongfoot’s voice. “There is no point in feeding him. Soon he’ll be in StarClan with his mother and brother.”

Snowpaw let out a sob. How could his own father talk about him dying so casually? 

“I’m going to save him,” Puddleshine growled. “Even if the rest of you have abandoned him to die, I won’t! I’m a medicine cat, and it is my duty to save other cats.”

“If he starts regaining his strength, we’ll consider letting him eat,” said Scorchclaw. “But for now, no fresh-kill goes to him. Tigerstar has agreed with me on this. If I see you or Quietsnow giving him any food, I’m reporting you.” 

“Then let me prove you wrong.” Puddleshine’s voice was venomous. He turned back into the medicine den, his bright blue eyes widening with horror when he saw Snowpaw staring at him.

“Snowpaw!?” he whispered. “Were you listening? Oh, Snowpaw…I’m so sorry…”

The medicine cat rested his chin on top of Snowpaw’s head. “I won’t let you die,” he said firmly. “I promise.” 

But Snowpaw had already given up. He rolled away from Puddleshine, curling up with his back to the medicine cat. Scorchclaw and Strongfoot were right. There was no future for him—even if he did survive, he’d never be able to eat normally, or become a warrior. 

_Please, StarClan. Just take me already._

That evening passed by in a haze as Snowpaw’s fever worsened. Puddleshine and Quietsnow worked tirelessly, packing poultices into his wounds, making him swallow herbs, and washing his pelt with more cool water. 

“Please, Snowpaw, don’t die,” Quietsnow said thickly. “Don’t listen to what Scorchclaw said. There is still a place for you in ShadowClan.” 

Snowpaw tuned her out. He wished he could beg the two medicine cats for death, but without a jaw he could no longer talk. 

_Snowpaw!_

A faint voice was crying out to him, sounding distant, yet familiar. 

_Snowpaw, you can’t die. It’s not your time. Show ShadowClan that you are my brave, strong kit._

Snowpaw let out a surprised yelp and lifted his head, looking around for Glowpelt, but couldn’t see her anywhere. 

“Lie still, Snowpaw,” said Quietsnow gently, placing a paw on his head. 

_The warriors are wrong. You are meant to become one of them._ said Glowpelt. 

Strongfoot’s callous words echoed in his ears. “He isn’t going to live. You know that, Puddleshine.”

Snowpaw unsheathed his claws and narrowed his eyes, a sudden fire raging in his chest. 

_Who said I’m going to die?_ he challenged his father silently.


	7. Chapter 7

A few sunrises later, Snowpaw’s fever finally subsided, but he was still quite weak. But his mother’s words echoed in his head all night—she believed in him. He had to survive, somehow. 

When he woke up again, the medicine den was quiet. He managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, his forelegs shaking with the effort. He looked around for Puddleshine and Quietsnow, but saw no sign of them. Grunting, he pushed himself to a stand with his hind legs, and staggered across the den, heading for the entrance. He squinted his eyes against the harsh sunlight, and walked out into the ShadowClan camp with quivering legs. 

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Snowpaw saw that the camp was mostly empty, with a few cats here and there. He guessed that most of them were out on patrol. Mistcloud was sharing tongues with Rippletail near the elder’s den, and Darkbriar was watching her kits tumble around outside the nursery. Goldendawn and a tom named Tawnyclaw were standing guard by the camp entrance. The ground was soaked and wet, and the clearing was dotted with piles of muddy snow. There had apparently been a snowstorm while Snowpaw had been out, and now all the snow and ice were melting. 

Snowpaw faltered through the clearing, walking slowly and keeping himself steady. The kits were the first to notice him. They froze mid wrestle, staring at him with bulging eyes. Palekit let out a terrified wail, and she and her brothers went running back into the nursery. Darkbrair gaped at Snowpaw, her face looking grim and shocked.

“Snowpaw!” Goldendawn came running over to him. “You’re up? Oh, you poor, poor thing.” She sympathetically licked him between the ears. 

Mistcloud came walking over, her blue eyes wide with horror. “Oh, great StarClan,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Snowpaw.” 

“Snowpaw!” Puddleshine came running into camp with a bundle of herbs in his mouth. “You shouldn’t be out of the medicine den, you still need to rest!” 

He wrapped his tail around Snowpaw’s shoulders, leading him back to the den. 

“I’m sorry, I had to leave camp for a bit to gather herbs,” said Puddleshine. “I sent Quietsnow to meet with Fernlight, the RiverClan medicine cat, to ask for more poppy seeds for you.”

Snowpaw looked down at the ground, his tongue hanging limply from his mouth. He knew his face had to look pretty horrible, for everyone to react like that. If he did survive, would anyone ever treat him like a normal cat again? 

Snowpaw lay back down in his nest while Puddleshine looked him over. After a while, he grew restless, and he was allowed to sit outside the den in a warm patch of sunlight. He crouched down in the grass as the patrols began to return, afraid of how they would react when they saw him. He let out a yelp of surprise as the blades of grass touched the exposed roof of his mouth, and rolled over on his side, sighing heavily. 

Strikestone was the first to notice Snowpaw. He came running over to him. 

“Snowpaw, you’re…you’re out!” he cried. He stood back a few steps, his eyes widening as he took in his apprentice’s appearance. 

“I’m really sorry, Snowpaw.” Strikestone hung his head, his voice thick. “I’m your mentor, and I failed you. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight…then this wouldn’t have happened. I came to see you a few times, but you were asleep.”

Snowpaw crawled forward and touched his nose to Strikestone’s, silently forgiving his mentor. 

_It’s my fault,_ he thought. _Aspenpaw and I shouldn’t have been so foolish and wandered off._

Strikestone gave Snowpaw a lick on the head, and then walked away. He sat with Juniperclaw and a she-cat named Sleekwhisker, who casted glances at him now and then. A few more warriors spotted him, all gasping at his appearance and then quickly walking away. When the apprentices returned from training and saw him, Daypaw let out a shriek, Flamepaw’s fur bristled, and Nightpaw made a disgusted face. Snowpaw miserably crawled back into the medicine den, wanting to disappear forever. 

“Hey, Snowpaw!” Quietsnow came into the medicine den carrying a frog. “Now that you’re better, Scorchclaw said I could give you this.” 

She chewed up the frog, spitting out the pieces into a paste. Despite its disgusting appearance, Snowpaw’s stomach rumbled loudly, having not received food in several sunrises. He greedily lapped up the goop, not even noticing its sludgy taste. 

“He ate it all!” Quietsnow cried to Puddleshine.

“Good,” Puddleshine purred. “It seems the others were wrong—Snowpaw will live.” 

Snowpaw curled up in his nest, tucking his deformed muzzle under his paw. After a while, Quietsnow talked to him. 

“Snowpaw,” she said gently. “Do you want me to take you to where Aspenpaw is buried? We held vigil for him several sunrises ago, but you weren’t in any condition to join.”

Snowpaw nodded, getting to his feet. Quietsnow led him out of the den and across the camp. Snowpaw stayed close to her, avoiding eye contact with all the other cats. He heard murmurs ripple through the camp as he passed, and pretended not to hear, although he caught a bit of conversation from Scorchclaw and a she-cat named Sleekwhisker. 

“Could he still become an apprentice?” Sleekwhisker asked the deputy. 

Scorchclaw snorted. “I doubt it. It’s up to Tigerstar to decide, but I’m guessing he will send him straight to the elder’s den. What a waste. He seemed like a promising warrior, but now we have another soft mouth to feed.” 

Quietsnow comfortingly brushed her pelt against Snowpaw’s as they walked through the thorn tunnel leading out of the camp. She led him over to a patch of ground near the entrance, where several mounds of dirt lay, and paused by one of them. 

“This is where your brother is,” she said. “We buried him right next to your mother.” 

Snowpaw sat by the grave, staring disbelievingly at it. His lively, curious brother, who he’d spent every day with, who he’d played, trained, and mourned for their mother with…was gone. The sleek, strong muscled gray tom who was growing so quickly was simply just gone, lying in pieces underneath a pile of dirt. 

“I’m sorry, Snowpaw,” said Quiestnow softly. She gazed sadly at him, although she was avoiding looking at him directly. Out of the corner of his eye, Snowpaw could see the small pool of water near the camp that was fed by a tiny stream. He got up and ran over to it, ignoring Quietsnow’s cry for him to come back. 

“Snowpaw, no, don’t…”

But Snowpaw had already reached the pool. He stared down at its surface, taking in his new appearance. He did not recognize the cat that stared up at him at all. His snowy white face was covered in thick, scabbed over scars. A particularly wide, jagged one ran all the way down from his forehead to his nose. And then there was his mouth. His jaw was replaced by small folds of hanging, shredded flesh. His tongue hung loosely from underneath the roof of his muzzle. He didn’t even look like a cat anymore…

“Snowpaw,” said Quietsnow tenderly, coming up behind him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to see, but I guess you know now what you look like. But it doesn’t matter what you look like on the outside, it matters what you…”

Snowpaw broke away from her, running back into the camp. He collapsed into the sunny spot next to the medicine den, burying his mangled face deep into the grass. Why did his mother want him to keep living? Had she really spoken to him from StarClan, or had he just been hallucinating from his fever? What was the point of living? ShadowClan didn’t want him anymore. 

Snowpaw watched half-heartedly as more cats left for patrols. He heard some murmurs about a fox that had been scented near the border, and watched as Tigerstar and Scorchclaw led a large patrol out to search for it. The few cats that stayed behind were sharing tongues and talking as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Darkbriar’s kits were playing outside the nursery again, squeaking happily and pouncing on each other. Snowpaw sighed heavily and closed his eyes, remembering how he and Aspenpaw used to play like that. 

He’d nearly drifted off to a light doze, when suddenly a piercing screech split the air. “MY KITS!!”

Snowpaw jumped up and gasped in horror. A dark shape was descending silently from the treetops into the ShadowClan camp. It was a massive hawk, with huge brown wings spread more than a tail-length wide. Its golden talons glinted in the sunlight, looking sharper than the fiercest warrior’s claws. The hawk was headed straight for the kits. Darkbriar had gone out of the camp to make dirt, and was running across the clearing towards them. The tiny cats looked up just as the huge bird extended its foot, reaching out for Newtkit…

Snowpaw became a white flash as he streaked across the camp, and leaped into the air, feeling his claws sink into the hawk’s sides as it began to take off with a screaming Newtkit. The bird let out a startled screech and dropped him. Snowpaw clung onto the bird, his hind legs dangling just above the ground. With a pulse of frustration, he wished he could bite the hawk. Instead, he raked his claws down its side, bringing it crashing down to the ground. The huge bird wriggled away from him, letting out sharp, piercing cries, and then suddenly took off, spraying drops of blood across the grass as it flapped its wings and soared high up above the pine trees. 

“My kits! Oh, my kits!” Darkbriar was huddled over her babies, who pressed into her fur, whimpering and trembling. Newtkit was bleeding slightly from where the hawk’s talons had dug into him. 

“Snowpaw, thank you,” Darkbriar whispered thickly. “Thank you so much.” 

“Well then!” That was the warrior Birchbark coming over to them, his amber eyes wide with amazement. “Tigerstar will have to let you become an apprentice again now!”


	8. Chapter 8

Snowpaw crept forward, his ears picking up on a splash coming from the stream up ahead. A frog suddenly appeared, croaking and staring ahead with its round, golden eyes. Snowpaw sprang, trapping the creature beneath one paw and hooking his claws into its slippery skin to prevent it from wriggling away. With the claws on his other paw, he scoured the frog across the throat, and it stopped moving. 

“Nice job!” Strikestone praised him, coming over to pick up the frog. Snowpaw sighed. He’d picked up his training once more, and had managed to teach himself to kill prey using only his claws, but he missed the thrill of biting into prey and tasting its flavors. The fact that he couldn’t carry the prey anymore after he’d killed also frustrated him—Strikestone had to carry it for him. 

“Hey, keep those claws sharp, and who knows what you’ll learn to do with them?” his mentor said encouragingly. 

Snowpaw reared up on his hind legs, clawing at a tree trunk, satisfied by the long grooves he created in the wood. He remembered the elders’ story about Scourge, the cat who had killed the older Tigerstar with claws reinforced with dog teeth. 

_Maybe one day, I’ll find the dogs that took Aspenpaw and my jaw away from me, and kill them!_ thought. _Then I’ll wear their fangs on my claws, and be super powerful!_

When he and Strikestone returned to camp, Quietsnow came to greet Snowpaw, telling him there was a freshly chewed lizard for him in the medicine den. Snowpaw sighed—he’d come to dread meals, and ate them out of sight in the medicine den, as eating had become an embarrassing, messy ordeal. But he ate as much as he could, determined to regain his strength. He’d grown very thin since he’d lost his jaw, but his muscles were starting to show again from under his pelt. Newleaf had arrived, and prey was much easier to find now.

When Snowpaw had finished eating, he came outside and settled into his favorite sunny spot, watching the other cats go about their day. From a distance, he saw Nightpaw and Daypaw stop and look disdainfully at him. 

“He’s so pathetic,” said Nightpaw, shaking his head. “I can’t believe they’re letting him still be an apprentice.”

“I wish we didn’t have to sleep in the apprentice’s den with him.” Daypaw shuddered. “His face gives me the creeps.”

Nightpaw suddenly noticed that Snowpaw was watching them. “Hey, quit staring, ugly!” he shouted.

Snowpaw turned his head, looking away from them. He desperately wished Aspenpaw were here—he’d have some choice words to say to Nightpaw and Daypaw, and would make them go away. 

He heard a squeal from over by the nursery. Robinkit and Palekit had Newtkit pinned down, and were battering at him with their paws.

“Stop it!” Newtkit wailed.

“Use your paws, Newtkit,” said Darkbriar, who was watching her kits play. “Shove them off.”

Newtkit flailed his paws around, cuffing Robinkit over the head and kicking Palekit in the face. He rolled away from them, and then he and Robinkit stood up on their hind legs, facing off. Newtkit cried out as Robinkit tackled him to the ground. He wriggled out from under his brother, and then ran from his siblings. Darkbriar shook her head as Robinkit called out, “Ha, you’re a scaredy-toad!” 

Snowpaw closed his eyes, about to take a nap, when he heard tiny paw steps coming up to him. He opened his eyes to see Newtkit standing in front of him. 

“Hi,” he said shyly. “Um…thanks for saving me and Robinkit and Palekit from the hawk. I’m sorry we ran away from you that one time.”

Snowpaw nodded. 

“I’ve been hearing Nightpaw and Daypaw say mean things about you.” Newtkit narrowed his little eyes. “I know what that feels like. Robinkit’s always telling me that I’m weak and stupid, and I’ll never be a warrior.”

He looked over his shoulder, to where Darkbriar was instructing Robinkit and Palekit how to fight while standing up on their hind legs. 

“Mother doesn’t say it, but I think she likes Robinkit and Palekit more than me,” said Newtkit quietly.

Snowpaw gave a sympathetic grunt, then caught of Strongfoot heading out of the camp with other warriors on patrol. Even after he’d saved the kits from the hawk, his father had not looked at or spoken to him. 

Newtkit tilted his head to one side. “How are you going to hunt now that you can’t bite down on prey?”

Snowpaw unsheathed his claws. 

“Whoa!” Newtkit took a step back, gaping at Snowpaw’s gleaming claws, which were growing quite long and sharp. 

“I wish my claws were that sharp,” said Newtkit. “Then I’d show Robinkit that I’m not weak!”

Snowpaw flicked his ears towards a sound at the edge of the clearing. A tiny lizard emerged from underneath a moss covered log, flicking its tongue. 

“Wow!” Newtkit whispered. “Prey rarely comes into the camp!”

Snowpaw gestured encouragingly towards the lizard with his head. Newtkits’ face fell. “I can’t catch that,” he said. 

Snowpaw nodded firmly. 

“Well, I guess I could try,” said Newtkit.

Snowpaw got to his feet and began to slowly creep towards the lizard, gesturing with his tail for Newtkit to follow. Newtkit matched him step for step, keeping the weight on his hind feet as they neared their target. When they were just a few whisker lengths away, Snowpaw nodded to Newtkit. The little tabby sprang, trapping the liazrd under a forepaw. He cried out as his prey wriggled free, trying to trap it between both his paws. Snowpaw motioned for Newtkit to pounce again. He landed with both paws on the lizard this time, and then bit down hard on its neck. 

“I did it!” he squeaked. Snowpaw gave an approving nod. Newtkit grabbed the lizard in his jaws and went racing towards the nursery. 

“Mother! Look what I caught!” he cried.

Darkbriar’s eyes widened with surprise. “You caught a lizard!?” she gasped.

“Wow!” Palekit cried.

Robinkit snorted in disbelief. “I bet you got one of the warriors to catch it for you.” 

“Nope, I caught it all by myself!” said Newtkit. 

“I’m proud of you,” Darkbriar purred. Newtkit’s eyes shined as he cast a grateful glance over in Snowpaw’s direction. 

_I can still be useful to this Clan,_ Snowpaw realized as a warm, relieved feeling spread through his chest.


	9. Chapter 9

“I can’t wait to see the other Clans!” Newtpaw hurried alongside Snowpaw, his sandy brown and black tabby fur standing up on edge with excitement. It was a few moons later, and Newtpaw had become Juniperclaw’s new apprentice. The black warrior watched Newtpaw with an amused look, although there was a twinge of sadness in his eyes. Snowpaw’s heart sank when he realized what he must be thinking—Aspenpaw should be attending this Gathering with them. 

It was Snowpaw’s first Gathering. He’d missed out on the first one while recovering in the medicine den, and Tigerstar had been hesitant to let him come, as he worried Snowpaw’s mangled face would scare the apprentices from the other Clans, but finally had decided to let him attend a Gathering. Snowpaw’s heart thudded nervously—he hoped it would go well. Everyone in ShadowClan seemed to have gotten used to his appearance, perhaps others would give him a chance as well.

They were walking along the marshy ground of RiverClan’s territory, which they were allowed to tread through tonight to reach the island. They passed a few strange Twoleg structures, including an incomplete bridge that jutted out into the water. The ground became more watery as the cats neared the island. Snowpaw felt mud snag at his claws. Hissing, he pulled up his paw and shook a few drops of brown water off, and then followed his Clan to the end of a fallen tree that led to the island. Tigerstar led ShadowClan across the long log, Scorchclaw just behind him. The wood felt surprisingly slippery; Snowpaw sank his long claws into it to keep himself from sliding off. Suddenly, Newtpaw slipped, letting out a shriek as he tumbled towards the surface of the lake. Juniperclaw reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, hauling him back onto the log.

“Thanks,” said Newtpaw sheepishly.

They reached the other side of the shore, and headed into a clearing surrounded by tall pine trees. If Snowpaw still had a jaw, it would have dropped—he had never seen so many cats in one place before! A myriad of scents bathed his tongue, and he curiously drank them in, trying to match each one to the cat it came from. He saw Robinpaw, Palepaw, and Flamepaw headed over to a group of apprentices sitting near the middle of the island. Snowpaw and Newtpaw followed them. 

“Hi, I’m Robinpaw!” Robinpaw introduced himself. “And this is my brother Newtpaw, my sister Palepaw, and the other two are Flamepaw and Snowpaw.” 

A young gray she-cat let out a shriek and drew back, her eyes widened fearfully as she looked at Snowpaw. The other apprentices gasped, also stepping away when they saw Snowpaw’s face. 

“What happened to you!?” a tabby she-cat cried. 

“He was attacked by dogs and lost his jaw,” Newtpaw explained. “But he’s still training to become a warrior.” 

“How does he eat?” the tabby apprentice asked. 

“His food is chewed up for him,” Newtpaw answered. 

“Eeew!” a few of the apprentices exclaimed. 

“He looks stupid with his tongue hanging out,” a pale brown tabby tom laughed. 

“What’s his warrior name going to be, Uglyface?” a dark brown tom next to him sneered. 

Snowpaw unsheathed his claws. He let out a furious hiss and marched over to the two toms, sticking his face right in theirs. 

“Ha, what are you going to do, fight us?” the tabby sneered. “You can’t bite, so I bet you’re going to be a worthless warrior.”

Snowpaw slashed his claws across the tabby’s face, making him jump back in surprise as a few drops of blood sprayed up. The other apprentices gasped loudly. The tabby crouched down, hissing furiously, his fur rising along his spine. 

“What is going on here!?” a dark red tabby tom jumped in between the young toms, glaring furiously at Snowpaw. 

“They were making fun of him,” said Newtpaw defensively. 

“I don’t care what they did, there is a truce here!” the red cat snapped. “Do not violate it.” 

The warrior led the brown tabby away, his tail wrapped comfortingly around his shoulders. The dark brown apprentice followed, casting a menacing glare over his shoulder at Snowpaw. 

“Wow, Snowpaw, that was dumb,” said Flamepaw, rolling her eyes. The other apprentices walked away, although Newtpaw stayed at Snowpaw’s side. 

“I think that fox-heart deserved that,” Newtpaw mumbled to Snowpaw. 

A loud yowl from high up in the trees called for silence to fall over the island. The four leaders of the Clans were perched high up in the trees, looking down at the crowd. Snowpaw was suddenly excited again—he was getting to see them for the first time!

Strikestone came over to Snowpaw and sat down next to him and Newtpaw. “That’s Sparkstar, the leader of ThunderClan,” he murmured in his apprentice’s ear, gesturing to a bright orange tabby she-cat that was walking to the end of a branch to speak. 

“All is well in ThunderClan,” she announced. “We have two new apprentices, Swiftpaw and Batpaw.”

“Swiftpaw! Batpaw!” yowled the ThunderClan cats. 

Snowpaw turned to see the tom that had mocked him sitting with his friend, beaming proudly, although his face was still bleeding. 

Next, a large dark gray tom stood up to speak.

“That’s Coldstar of RiverClan,” Strikestone told Snowpaw. “He’s the eldest of the leaders.” 

“Everything is going well in RiverClan,” said Coldstar, his mew deep and gruff. “We also have a few new apprentices.”

After RiverClan had finished chanting their names, the third leader, a skinny golden brown tom, walked to the end of his branch to speak.

“That’s Olivestar, of WindClan,” said Strikestone. 

“It has been a bitter leaf-bare, and some of our kits and elders died,” said Olivestar. “But we are still strong, and we will not let our losses drag us down.” 

At last, Tigerstar spoke. 

“Lots of things have been happening in ShadowClan,” he announced. “First off, we have two new warriors, Nightstrike and Daycloud!” 

The two young cats posed proudly as ShadowClan and a few cats from other clans chanted their names. Snowpaw was grateful he didn’t have to sleep in the apprentice’s den with them anymore, with how much hostility they’d treated him with. 

“Also, we have some new apprentices,” Tigerstar continued. “They are Robinpaw, Palepaw, and Newtpaw! Also joining them is Snowpaw, who has recovered from his injuries and is continuing his training.”

As everyone turned to look at the four of them, Snowpaw saw several cats’ eyes widen at the sight of him, and heard a few gasps and whispers. Fur prickling, he shrank back behind Strikestone. 

At last, the Gathering was over. The leaders scrambled down from the trees, and everyone began to regroup back into their Clans to leave. Suddenly, the red tabby from before came up to Tigerstar, and began talking to him. Snowpaw couldn’t hear the words, but from the angry tone, he knew they were about him. He hunkered down in the grass, wanting to disappear. A few moments later, Tigerstar came over to him, his eyes narrowed.

“Snowpaw,” he said sternly. “I know this is your first Gathering, but you know there is a truce. I am very disappointed in you.”

“Those ThunderClan apprentices were making fun of him!” Newtpaw protested. 

“Even so, he cannot attack another cat during a Gathering,” said Tigerstar. “Things have always been tense between ShadowClan and ThunderClan, and there’s no need to make it worse. Fortunately, we haven’t had too much conflict with them in the past seasons, because Sparkstar and I are kin, but Swiftpaw’s father Redwing was quite angry.” 

Snowpaw looked down shamefully at his paws. 

“Do not let this happen again,” Tigerstar said firmly. “Otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to not let you come to Gatherings.”

_I don’t think I want to come to any more Gatherings,_ Snowpaw thought miserably as ShadowClan made their way off the island. 

Strikestone gave his apprentice’s ear a lick. “Hey now, you just need to learn there’s a time and a place to express your anger like that,” he said. “If you see those ThunderClan apprentices on our territory, you can attack them all you want!” 

“Yeah, and if they make fun of you again, I’ll make them regret it.” Newtpaw unsheathed his claws. Snowpaw gave a small purr, thankful for their words. 

 

Snowpaw watched as Newtpaw crept along the creek, carefully stalking a frog that was hopping along its muddy bank. He sprang, sailing towards the frog, but landed awkwardly, slipping in the mud and falling straight into the creek.

“Lizard dung!” Newtpaw spat as the frog jumped and disappeared into a bush. 

“You jumped too soon, toad-brain!” Robinpaw called out to his brother. He was hunting with his mentor, Birchbark, nearby. 

“I know that!” Newtpaw spat, climbing out of the creek and shaking mud off his coat. 

“Remember, keep weight off your forepaws,” Juniperclaw reminded his apprentice. 

“Hey, Snowpaw,” said Strikestone. “There’s a vole over there, why don’t you try to catch it?” 

Snowpaw nodded, padding to the edge of the small clearing where all the apprentices were practicing hunting with their mentors. The scent of vole washed over Snowpaw’s tongue as he crept forward, spotting the small brown creature emerging from a bush. It tried to turn and run, but Snowpaw was faster. He struck out with his claws, sending it flying. It lay on the ground, too stunned to move as Snowpaw slashed its throat open. 

“Nicely done!” Strikestone praised as Snowpaw carried the vole back to his mentor. He’d learned a trick for carrying fresh-kill; by skewering it with claws on one foot, and holding it above the ground, while walking using three legs. It was surprisingly not as hard as he’d imagined. 

“Stabbing the prey like that will tear it up and make it unfit to eat,” said Robinpaw, coming over and narrowing his eyes at Snowpaw. 

“This vole is fine,” said Strikestone. “Snowpaw is careful not to damage the prey too much.” 

Palepaw, who was also hunting with them, suddenly leaped into the air, grabbing a finch between her paws. She grabbed its neck in her jaws as she landed, biting down hard.

“Nice work!” Her mentor, Mintwhisker said proudly. 

Suddenly, Snowpaw spotted a lizard scuttling out from behind a rock. He motioned towards it with his tail to show Newtpaw. The tabby apprentice crouched low to the ground, carefully stalking the tiny creature. Snowpaw held his breath as Newtpaw tensed up and readied himself to spring. After a few long, anxious moments, Newtpaw leaped on top of the lizard and grabbed it in his jaws, biting down on its neck. 

“Way to go, Newtpaw!” Juniperclaw exclaimed. 

Suddenly, the bushes at the edge of the clearing rustled loudly, and a loud, frantic cawing rang out. Snowpaw turned to see Robinpaw jumping out of the brush, with a large crow flapping in his jaws. He gave the bird a firm shake and it went limp.

“Whoa!” everyone cried. Robinpaw held his tail up high as he carried his catch. He narrowed his eyes at the small lizard that dangled from Newtpaw’s jaws, setting down the bird to say, “That dinky thing won’t feed anyone.” 

“Any prey we find can be useful,” said Juniperclaw. 

“Yeah, maybe for a tiny kit,” Robinpaw snorted, picking up his crow and arrogantly trotting off. Snowpaw glared after him as he fell in stride with Newtpaw, who was hanging his head. The hunting patrol headed back towards the camp, all carrying their catches. They ran into the border patrol, which was also returning. Leading it was Nightstrike, wearing an incredibly smug look on his face. Snowpaw rolled his eyes—ever since Nightstrike had become a warrior, he’d pranced around like he was the most important cat in ShadowClan. He was popular, so he was allowed to lead patrols and other things that senior warriors usually did.

“What are you doing, Snowpaw?” Nightstrike noticed him hobbling on three legs while keeping his prey off the ground. “You look stupid.” 

“That’s how he’s figured out how to carry prey,” Strikestone told him. 

“By hopping around like a wounded rabbit?” Nightstrike sneered. “You’re a joke, Snowpaw. I can’t believe they’re still letting you become a warrior.”

A deep growl rose in Snowpaw’s chest. He carefully slid the vole off his claws, flexing them threateningly. 

“Snowpaw, calm down,” said Strikestone. “Nightstrike, there is no need to antagonize him like that.”

“Well, he isn’t coming on any of my patrols,” said Nightstrike. “He’s a weirdo. Just look at his tongue, flopping out of his mouth stupidly…”

He was cut off as Snowpaw flew through the air and tackled him. Nightstrike let out a startled yowl as Snowpaw furiously slashed at him with his claws. Nightstrike bit down hard on Snowpaw’s foreleg, sending up a burst of blood. Snowpaw wished desperately he could bite back. He raked his claws along Nightstrike’s sides while battering at his stomach with his hind legs. The two toms became a whirl of black and white, screeching in rage. Suddenly, something heavy slammed into them and knocked them apart. Snowpaw rolled over on his back, staring up into Strongfoot’s smoldering gaze. 

“What kind of cat are you, attacking your own Clan mate!?” he spat furiously. 

“What’s going on!?” Tigerstar went racing out of the thorn tunnel, Scorchclaw on his heels. 

“Snowpaw attacked me!” Nightstrike yowled, getting to his feet. His black pelt was covered in several bright red, oozing scratches. 

“What happened?” Tigerstar demanded, his amber eyes glowering. 

“Nightstrike was making fun of Snowpaw,” said Newtpaw. “He called him a joke, and other mean things.” 

“It doesn’t matter what Nightstrike did!” Tigerstar snapped. “Violence among each other will not be tolerated! Snowpaw, until you can learn to keep your anger under control, you are suspended from training!”

Snowpaw let out a loud, protesting cry. 

“Well, if you wanted to keep on training, you shouldn’t have done that,” Tigerstar said firmly. “You are confined to the camp until you can learn be a respectful member of this Clan.” 

Snowpaw went running into the camp, heading straight for the apprentice’s den. He curled up into a tight ball inside, wanting to never come out. He hated every hair on Nightstrike’s pelt, and did not regret slashing him up. Yet his fur burned with deep, anguished shame. 

_I’m sorry Mother,_ he said silently. _I don’t think I’ll ever be able to become a warrior._


	10. Chapter 10

Snowpaw lay in the shade outside the apprentice’s den, miserably watching the rest of the Clan as they went about their day. It had been a few sunrises since he’d fought with Nightstrike, and he was incredibly bored, forced to watch the other apprentices go out to train while he stayed behind in the camp. Nightstrike walked over to join the patrol, the claw marks Snowpaw had left still quite visible. Some of them looked like they might even scar over, although it brought no satisfaction to Snowpaw. Hardly anyone had talked to him since the fight—it was as if they were all taking Nightstrike’s side. 

_Why didn’t I try harder to get Aspenpaw to follow me back to our mentors?_ Snowpaw thought miserably. _If we had just gone back like we were supposed to, Aspenpaw would still be alive, I’d still have my jaw, and no one would make fun of me._

“Hey, Snowpaw.” Newtpaw came up to see him, sitting beside him in the shade. Snowpaw was surprised to see his paw wrapped in cobwebs. 

“I stepped on a thorn and had to come back to the camp early,” Newtpaw sighed. “Robinpaw was laughing at me and calling me a toad-brain, again.”   
Snowpaw shook his head, letting out a disgusted grunt. 

“Yeah, I know, he always has to rub it in my face that he can do everything better than I can,” said Newtpaw. 

Snowpaw gazed across the camp. Strongfoot was standing guard by the thorn tunnel. Noticing that Snowpaw was looking at him, he returned the stare with a cold glare. 

“I know how you feel—my father wants nothing to do with me either,” Newtpaw sighed. He cast a hard look over at the warrior Tawnyclaw, who was sharing fresh-kill with Fireberry. 

“Hey, Snowpaw,” said Newtpaw softly. “Do you think I’ll ever become a warrior?”

Snowpaw nodded. 

“I think you will too,” said Newtpaw. “It’ll just take us both a while, you know.” 

Snowpaw gave a weak shrug. 

“Yes you will,” Newtpaw told him firmly. “You’ve gone through more than most cats have to go through…even if you are a bit of a stubborn toad-brain at times.”

Snowpaw flicked his tail from behind Newtpaw, swatting the back of his friend’s head.

“Hey!” cried Newtpaw. Snowpaw looked away innocently. 

“I know you did that,” said Newtpaw. 

“Nuh-uh,” Snowpaw grunted.

“You did too!” Newtpaw playfully bowled Snowpaw over. Snowpaw battered at his stomach with his hind feet, giving a mock hiss. He threw Newtpaw off, sending him flying into a clump of mushrooms. Snowpaw moved in to tackle him, but Newtpaw reared up on his hind legs, swatting at him with his forepaws. 

Suddenly, their fun was interrupted by a distressed yowl. They turned to see Mintwhisker entering the camp, with Palepaw leaning against his shoulder. She was heavily bleeding from a wound on her head. Mintwhisker had several bloody scratches across his pelt. 

“Palepaw!” Newtpaw went running over to his sister. Tigerstar emerged from his den, coming over to meet them. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

“We ran into some rogues,” Mintwhisker panted. “They were trespassing on our territory, near the northern border. I told them to leave, but they wouldn’t. They were strong…they hurt Palepaw…we barely got away.” 

“Do you think they followed you?” Tigerstar’s fur bristled along his spine.

“No, I don’t think so,” said Mintwhisker. 

“Tawnyclaw! Fireberry!” Tigerstar called out. “Go find Scorchclaw’s patrol and tell them to check the northern border!” 

As Tawnyclaw and Fireberry went running off, Mintwhisker helped Palepaw walk towards the medicine den, talking soothingly to the whimpering apprentice. Newtpaw was walking along them, licking at Palepaw’s wound. 

“Whoever did this to you, I’ll shred them!” he growled, unsheathing his claws.

Puddleshine met them at the entrance to his den. “Come in, Palepaw,” he said, helping her inside. “The rest of you, stay out for now. She’ll be alright. I’ll just need to apply some cobwebs to stop the bleeding. When I’m done, I’ll get something for your scratches, Mintwhisker.”

“Tell me more about the rogues,” said Tigerstar, motioning for Mintwhisker to come back over.

“They were led by this huge tom who called himself Rambo,” said Mintwhisker. He leaned over to lick at one of his bloody scratches. “There were five of them. I told them this was not their territory, and they just laughed at me. I sent Palepaw to get help, but one of the rogues attacked her, and then they ganged up on me. I bit one of them, and then Palepaw and I went running back to camp. They seemed very well trained for rogues...”

“Well, Scorchclaw’s patrol is quite large, perhaps they can scare them off,” said Tigerstar. 

Over by the camp entrance, Strongfoot lashed his tail, peering into the thorn tunnel as if he expected the rouges to come running into the camp at any moment. It seemed like forever, but finally, Scorchclaw’s patrol returned. Their fur was ruffled, and a few of the cats were bleeding. 

“We chased them off!” Scorchclaw announced. “But they put up quite a fight, even though they were clearly outnumbered.” 

“I want a night patrol to go out tonight,” Tigerstar ordered. “Make sure these rogues know they have no right to be here!”

Snowpaw unsheathed his claws, scratching at the ground in frustration. He was itching to sink them into the pelts of the rogues right now and to help his Clan drive them off. But when night came, Robinpaw and Flamepaw were the only apprentices chosen to go. Snowpaw lay restlessly in the apprentice’s den, wishing he could slash at those mangy cats with his long claws. When the patrol returned at dawn, Robinpaw and Flamepaw came sauntering into the den, looking tired but smug. 

“Man, that was cool!” said Robinpaw. “We got to patrol at night! Too bad the rest of you couldn’t come.”

“Did you see any rogues?” Newtpaw asked. 

“Nope—I bet they’re too scared of us to come back!” said Flamepaw.

“If they come back, I’ll flay them. And then Tigerstar will have to make me a warrior!” Robinpaw titled his head arrogantly. 

Snowpaw left the den, not wanting to hear Robinpaw boast about himself. Newtpaw seemed to have the same idea, and followed. The warriors that had gone on patrol were all returning to the warrior’s den, and a dawn patrol was leaving the camp. Snowpaw restlessly shuffled his forepaws in the dirt. 

“Hey, Snowpaw,” Newtpaw murmured in his ear. “Since most everyone is asleep or on patrol, why don’t we sneak out of the camp in a bit?” 

Snowpaw looked at Newtpaw uncertainly. If they were caught, his punishment would surely be prolonged. 

“Come on, I know you want to,” said Newtpaw. “It’s unfair that Tigerstar is making you just sit in the camp all day.” 

Snowpaw nodded, brushing aside the fear of being caught. He was dying to get out of this boring camp. It wasn’t long before almost all the warriors in the camp were settled in their den. Juniperclaw was among the sleeping cats, so they didn’t have to worry about him coming to find Newtpaw. A warrior named Blackfang and Mintwhisker were standing guard by the camp’s entrance. Snowpaw and Newtpaw managed to slip away through a gap in the brambles surrounding the camp. A pang of nostalgia swept through Snowpaw as he remembered how he and Aspenpaw had once snuck out as kits. He bounded through the forest, drinking in the deep, crisp scent of the pines. It felt great to be out of that crowded, stuffy camp! 

“Race you to the shore!” Newtpaw cried. Snowpaw flew after him, heading for the lake. He beat Newtpaw by a few fox lengths, turning and skidding to a halt in the sand. 

“Aw, why are you better than me at everything?” Newtpaw pouted, half sincere, half-jokingly.

Suddenly, Snowpaw perked up his ears as he caught a peculiar scent on a breeze. His fur bristled as he looked off into the distance, where he could just catch a glimpse of the border between ShadowClan and RiverClan. 

“What is it?” said Newtpaw. “Do you smell the rogues?”

Snowpaw shook his head and narrowed his eyes. He gestured with his tail for Newtpaw to follow him away from the shore, back into the trees as he headed towards the RiverClan border. 

“Is it RiverClan!?” Newtpaw cried.

Snowpaw nodded. The fishy, oily scent of the enemy cats was now flooding his nostrils. Newtpaw’s stripy fur spiked up as he caught onto it as well. When they came upon a small Thunderpath that acted as part of the border, four cats came into view. The RiverClan deputy, Shaleclaw, was there, talking with three warriors and an apprentice. All of them were quite large and muscular, with sleek, gleaming pelts. Snowpaw let out a challenging yowl, causing them to turn their heads in his direction.

“Well, what do we have here?” Shaleclaw smirked, revealing his long fangs. “Two puny ShadowClan apprentices? That’s hardly a patrol.”

“You’re on our territory!” Newtpaw growled. “Get out!” 

Shaleclaw and the others let out surprised laughs. 

“As if you can stop us,” said Shaleclaw. He arrogantly sat down and licked at his dark gray tabby fur. “The Twolegs are active in our territory again. They’ve been splashing around in the water and scaring off all the fish. We’re here to hunt a bit of prey from your territory. Don’t bother trying to fight us—you won’t win.”

Snowpaw growled viciously, stepping closer to Shaleclaw. 

“Growl all you want,” said Shaleclaw, narrowing his eyes. “We’re not going anywhere. It’s not like you can bite us, with that ruined face of yours.” 

Snowpaw looked over his shoulder at Newtpaw, flicking his tail as a signal for him to go get help. Newtpaw turned and ran in the direction of the ShadowClan camp, when suddenly, a ginger flash knocked into him. The RiverClan apprentice had pinned Newtpaw down, gripping him with her claws. 

“Get off me, fish-breath!” Newtpaw spat, kicking his hind legs at her stomach. The apprentice bit into his shoulder, causing him to wail. Snowpaw dashed over and slashed his claws over her ear. She let out a scream, jumping backwards and shaking her head as a stream of blood sprayed into the air. To Snowpaw’s shock, he realized that he had sliced her ear nearly in half.

“Brightpaw!” A mottled dark gray warrior cried. He went barreling towards Snowpaw, claws and fangs outstretched. Snowpaw nimbly darted out of the way; the tom slipped on a patch of mud and went crashing to the ground. Snowpaw jumped on him, slicing him with his claws. The tough looking warrior crumpled in a ball, wailing for mercy as Snowpaw ripped huge, bloody clumps of fur from his pelt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Newtpaw dashing away into the forest. The other warriors came hurtling towards Snowpaw. He jumped off the mottled tom and collided with another, black tom, raking his claws down his face. The tom let out a pained screech and wriggled away. Snowpaw swiftly jumped away from Shaleclaw’s snapping jaws, turning and kicking the RiverClan deputy right in the face. Snowpaw then leapt at a massive dark brown tom, swiping powerful blows across his face and chest. 

“Enough!” Shaleclaw roared. He grabbed Snowpaw’s scruff in his jaws and slammed him to the ground. Snowpaw struggled, gagging on the mud that flowed into his exposed mouth. Shaleclaw held him firmly in place, growling in his ear, “I’m going to tear you apart, you mutilated freak.” 

Suddenly, Shaleclaw let out a startled yowl, and went flying off of Snowpaw. Snowpaw pushed himself up with his forepaws, gasping and spitting out mud. He gasped when he saw Strikestone rolling on the ground with Shaleclaw in his grasp. More ShadowClan cats came running—Lioneye, Birchclaw, Sleekwhisker, and Daycloud. Newtpaw came up to Snowpaw’s side as the ShadowClan patrol surrounded the RiverClan intruders, snarling loudly. Shaleclaw sprang away from Strikestone, racing back towards RiverClan territory, his Clan mates following. 

“Snowpaw!” Strikestone exclaimed. “What are you doing out of the camp?” 

“It’s my fault!” Newtpaw cried as Snowpaw hung his head. “Please, Strikestone, don’t be mad at him. I encouraged him to sneak out and get some fresh air, and then we ran into these RiverClan trespassers. He sent me to get help while he fought them.”

Snowpaw slowly brought his head up to look his mentor in the eye. But to his surprise, Strikestone’s amber eyes were not full of anger—they were full of awe. 

“Snowpaw,” he said slowly. “All of those RiverClan cats were injured by the time we got here. Did you fight that whole patrol all by yourself?”

Snowpaw nodded.

“Well then!” Strikestone purred loudly. “Maybe I should talk to Tigerstar about continuing your training!”


	11. Chapter 11

Snowpaw stalked the robin quietly, careful not to create any noise as the bird pulled at a worm from the ground. He stood still, trying to judge the right moment to pounce. Suddenly, a call from another bird high up in the trees startled the robin. As it took off flying, Snowpaw jumped up and lashed out, scouring his claws across the robin’s red stomach. The bird fell to the ground with a cry. Snowpaw slashed its throat, quickly ending its pain. 

“That was great, Snowpaw!” Newtpaw came bouncing up to him, picking up the robin in his jaws. Snowpaw flexed his claws, flinging the blood off. A breeze brought several scents to the exposed glands on the roof of his mouth. A moon and a half had passed since the rogues had been sighted, but Tigerstar had ordered all warriors to be on guard for them.  


Snowpaw met back up with Strikestone, who congratulated him on his kill, and then he and Newtpaw walked back to camp with Strikestone and Juniperclaw. Strikestone headed over towards the nursery, where he touched noses with a queen named Beenose. She was a pretty white she-cat with black-tipped ears, and was expecting Strikestone’s kits. Snowpaw looked over towards the elders den, his heart sinking in his chest at the sight of it being empty. Mistcloud and Rippletail had recently passed away, just a few days apart from each other. He missed the old cats’ stories about legendary warriors. 

_I hope to become a cat that elders talk about one day,_ he thought. 

Suddenly, Sleekwhisker came skidding into the camp. 

“The rogues are back!” she yowled. “They’re over near the Twoleg nest, and there are more of them this time!” 

“Alright, everyone, listen up!” Tigerstar barked, jumping down from his tree. “Scorchclaw, you and I will lead the patrol to stop them. Strikestone, Juniperclaw, Mintwhisker, Strongfoot, Lioneye, and Nightstrike, come with us! If I called your name, bring your apprentice as well!” 

Snowpaw’s pelt tingled as he and Newtpaw exchanged an excited look. They joined their mentors as the patrol lined up by the thorn tunnel. At last, Snowpaw was going to be in his first attack patrol! They went streaming out of the camp, heading in the direction of the clearing with the giant Twoleg nest. It wasn’t long before they picked up the sounds of screeches and yowls. Snowpaw unsheathed his claws as the patrol charged towards the scene. 

Along the small Thunderpath, the other patrol was slashing and rolling around the ground with several unfamiliar cats. They all looked surprisingly strong, and fought the warriors nearly blow for blow. Snowpaw leapt onto a mottled brown tom, grabbing his scruff in his jaws and raking his claws down his side. The tom twisted away, then turned to face him, hissing furiously, but was suddenly taken aback by Snowpaw’s face. Snowpaw slashed him across one eye, and he went running away wailing. He then heard a cry for help, and turned to see Robinpaw struggling under a golden brown tabby tom. Birchbark was trying to get to him, but was grappling with two large toms. Snowpaw raced towards the tabby, Newtpaw at his side, and together they knocked the rogue off of Robinpaw. Robinpaw sprang to his paws, and the three apprentices faced the tabby head on, slashing at him. He cried out in surprise as Snowpaw’s long claws left a large gash in his shoulder. Robinpaw gave his paw a fierce bite, and he turned and fled. Snowpaw looked around—there were about as many rogues as there were warriors. Strongfoot was writhing on the ground with a brown tabby tom, while Mintwhisker and Palepaw were chasing a black and white she-cat. Flamepaw fiercely bit down on the leg of a black tom, who screeched and fled. Snowpaw ran over to help Strikestone fight off a nearly hairless tom, gripping him still with his claws while Strikestone gave him a good thrashing. He ran away with his tail between his legs, crying like a kit. 

Suddenly, a loud, high-pitched caterwaul rang out. Snowpaw turned and saw Tigerstar and a massive russet colored tom gripping each other tightly. Blood ran down from a huge wound on Tigerstar’s head, into his amber eyes, which gleamed furiously. Suddenly, the russet tom gave Tigerstar a huge shove, and went falling onto the ShadowClan leader, pinning him to the ground. Scorchclaw went racing over to help, only to be flattened to the ground by a huge rogue. Snowpaw jumped over a white she-cat as she dove for him, dodged a blow from a gray tom, and darted between two toms trying to grab him from two different directions. They met in the middle, head butting each other hard and collapsing to the ground. Snowpaw finally reached the tom that had Tigerstar pinned, raking his claws across his dark red flank. He let out a surprised yowl, jumping away from Tigerstar and whirling around to face Snowpaw.

“Wow, you sure are an ugly thing,” his opponent sneered, although his own face was covered in scars. “Let me put you out of your misery.” 

“Snowpaw, look out!” 

Strikestone was suddenly there, grabbing his apprentice by the scruff and pulling him back just as the russet tom’s jaws lunged for Snowpaw’s throat. Juniperclaw came over and helped Strikestone grapple with the big cat as Snowpaw darted to Tigerstar’s side. The ShadowClan leader was lying unmoving on his side. Snowpaw let out a loud cry when he noticed a huge gash torn in in his throat, spilling blood into the grass. Tigerstar let out a faint gurgle, and then his amber eyes clouded over. 

“No!” Snowpaw tried to yell, but it only came out as a choked screech. He stood protectively over the ShadowClan leader as the battle raged on around him. Strikestone came to stand by his side. 

“It’s okay, Snowpaw,” Strikestone said calmly. “This isn’t Tigerstar’s last life.” 

Strikestone and Juniperclaw had the russet tom partially pinned down. The huge rogue clawed at the dirt, tearing out clumps of earth and screeching angrily. Suddenly, he flung Juniperclaw off of him, sending the black cat sprawling. The red tom jumped up and snapped at Strikestone’s throat, but suddenly, Flamepaw was there, flying at the rogue and tearing a huge chunk out of his ear.

“Alright! We surrender!” the big tom yowled. 

The fighting stopped as Strikestone let him go. The red cat stood up, swaying on his paws, and then spread his jaws in a taunting grin, his muzzle dripping with blood. 

“I get the idea, you don’t want us here,” he said. “We’ll leave for now, but we’ll be back. There’s plenty more of us, where we come from. You can’t stop us from hunting in the forest. We’re tired of eating crap from the Twolegplace. My name is Rambo, and my gang and I ain't afraid of you punks!” 

Rambo flew off into the trees, his rogues streaming after him. The other ShadowClan warriors came to stand around Tigerstar, looking at their leader’s torn throat in horror. 

“No! Tigerstar!” Newtpaw cried. 

“I don’t think this his last life,” said Juniperclaw, touching his nose to his apprentice’s ear. 

“Look!” Palepaw cried. Snowpaw looked down at Tigerstar, gasping as he realized the wound in his throat was slowly closing. The blood flow died down to a trickle as the edges of the gash came together. Suddenly, Tigerstar opened his eyes, letting out a shuttering gasp. 

“Wow!” Newtpaw gasped in awe. 

“Let’s get you to Puddleshine,” said Scorchclaw, heaving the large tabby onto his back. Strongfoot helped the deputy carry Tigerstar back to camp, as the warriors followed. 

“Those rogues don’t seem afraid of anything,” said Mintwhisker with a frown. 

“We’ll give them something to be afraid of!” Nightstrike spat, flexing his bloodstained claws. 

Everyone came running to greet the patrol as they entered the camp. 

“Is Tigerstar alright!?” Darkbriar cried. 

“I’m fine,” the leader rasped. “Everyone fought well…especially the apprentices.” 

Tigerstar attempted to get off of Strongfoot and Scorchclaw’s backs. 

“Lie still, we have to take you to Puddleshine’s den,” Strongfoot growled. 

“Before I do that, I think it’s time we made your daughter a warrior, Scorchclaw,” said Tigerstar. 

Flamepaw gasped. “Really!?” she cried. 

“Everyone, gather around!” Scorchclaw yowled excitedly. The Clan formed a circle around the center of the camp. Tigerstar sat before Flamepaw, who bowed her head as he placed his chin on her head. 

“Flamepaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Flamewing,” the old tabby said. “StarClan honors your fearlessness and determination, and we welcome you as a full member of ShadowClan.” 

Flamewing gave her leader’s shoulder a respectful lick and stepped away. 

“Flamewing! Flamewing!” the Clan chanted. Scorchclaw and his mate, Fireberry, came over to their daughter and covered her in licks. But as the chanting died down, Snowpaw twitched his ears, picking up mumbling from Strongfoot and Juniperclaw.

“That was Tigerstar’s eighth life,” Strongfoot whispered. “He only has one more left.” 

“Well, he’s old. He can’t be here forever,” Juniperclaw murmured. In a much louder voice, he said, “We’ll remain strong no matter what. We defeated those rogues today, and we’ll defeat them next time!” 

Nojaw let out a loud yowl of agreement. The gray tom briefly glanced at Snowpaw. Was that a gleam of pride he saw in his father’s eyes?


	12. Chapter 12

“Alright, as we head over to the Twolegplace, remember, that if we see any kittypets, you are not to talk to them. Alright?” said Scorchclaw sternly. It was the next day—the ShadowClan deputy was leading a patrol to find the area the rogues were centered around. Snowpaw and Newtpaw had been chosen to go, along with their mentors, along with Daycloud, Mintwhisker, and Palepaw. Tigerstar was back at the camp, still recovering from the life he’d lost. 

“What if they can tell us useful information?” Newtpaw spoke up. 

“Then let me do the talking,” Scorchclaw growled. 

The patrol had crossed the northern border of the ShadowClan territory, and were now looking at a Thunderpath, across from which was a Twolegplace. A few monsters zoomed by, growling and bellowing smoke that smelled sickening. A few long moments passed without any monsters. Only a small red one was visible in the distance. The patrol darted across the path, which was thankfully not too wide, and the last cat made it over just before the red monster came close. As they neared the Twolegplace, Snowpaw felt overwhelmed by the strange surroundings. He had never seen dens so huge and tall before. They were all surrounded by tall wooden walls, which Scorchclaw called “fences.” A breeze brought dozens of new smells to Snowpaw’s scent glands, most unfamiliar, but he did detect a few cats, as well as the faint scent of….dog. The fur rose along his back. 

“Don’t be afraid,” Strikestone told him. “Use those claws if anything comes at us.” 

The cats walked in a single file line down a stony, sand-colored path that bordered the rows of fences. Through a knothole, Snowpaw caught a glimpse of a grassy clearing behind one of the Twoleg dens. 

“How come they have such weird structures built around their dens?” Newtpaw asked Juniperclaw.

“I suppose it’s to keep unwanted animals out,” said Juniperclaw. “Although they’re easy for cats to climb up.” 

Suddenly, Snowpaw was aware of the scents of several unfamiliar cats. Twitching his ears, he could just pick up the thin mewling of kits. 

“There seems to be a lot of cats in this yard,” said Daycloud. “Scorchclaw, don’t you think we should talk to them? They could know something about the rogues.” 

“Alright,” Scorchclaw grunted, lashing his tail. “Make it quick.”

Daycloud scaled up the fence, digging her claws into its woody material, and balanced on the edge. She peered down to the other side, and started talking to someone. A few moments later, she turned back to the patrol, and said, “A lot of kittypets live here. This one says he thinks Rambo might have been born here, but isn’t sure. He says we should ask someone named Ralph.” 

Suddenly, a silver she-cat appeared on the fence. She was much smaller than any Clan cat, with fur that looked nearly kitten soft. 

“Hi!” she mewed. “I’m Sylvia! You’re all welcome to come in if you’d like!” 

Some of the warriors shrank back, obviously uncomfortable, although some, including Snowpaw, showed interest. He followed Strikestone over the fence and into the yard. All around were multiple cats, all lounging in the sun, playing or grooming. A group of kits were tumbling in a corner of the yard. Scorchclaw followed the warriors over the fence, looking disgruntled as he dropped to the ground. 

“Our Twolegs take in cats that don’t have homes,” said Sylvia. “Some of us were born here, but others were found on the streets.” 

“Hey there, I’m Spicy! Are you all looking for a new home?” A reddish-brown tabby tom came up to stand next to Sylvia. 

“No,” Scorchclaw growled. “We are ShadowClan. We live in the forest, and we’ve been having trouble with some rogues. We wanted to ask if you knew where they hang out the most.” 

“Oh…you’re some of those forest cats,” said Spicy. He frowned “Yeah, Rambo’s a mean one. We’ve heard about him and his thugs. He lived here at some point, although it was when Sylvia and I were kits, so we don’t really remember. Old Ralph would know, though.” He gestured over with his tail to where a figure was lying in the grass near the kits. 

Snowpaw’s fur suddenly stood on end as a spark of fear burst in his chest. He backed away, unsheathing his claws. 

“Ralph is a _dog!?_ ” Strikestone cried incredulously. 

“Don’t worry, he's harmless,” said Sylvia. “He’s lived here forever, and he understands cats because he’s always lived with us.” 

Snowpaw cautiously followed the other cats over to the dog. To his relief, Ralph was much smaller than the dogs that had attacked him. He was quite fat, with droopy jowls, long ears, and white fur patched with brown. He was loudly snoring in a sunny patch of grass.

“Hey, wake up!” Scorchclaw snapped.

“Huh…what?” Ralph blinked, staring up at Scorchclaw. “Spicy, is that you?” 

“No, we’re from ShadowClan,” Strikestone explained. “We live in the forest, and we’ve been terrorized recently by a group of rogues led by a cat named Rambo. Do you know anything about him?”

Ralph’s eyes grew wide. He brought himself to a sitting position. His face was saggy and wrinkly, and his old looking eyes were tinged red. 

“Yes, I know Rambo,” said Ralph. “I knew him way back when he was a tiny kitten. My Twolegs found him all alone on the street, and they gave him to my old mate, Jessie, to suckle along with her pups. Rambo was a brave little guy. He always wanted to wrestle with our pups, even though they were bigger than he was. He was adventurous, and playful…but also a bully. The other kittens didn’t like him because he bossed them around and played too rough. One day, when he was…oh, I’d say about nine or ten moons old, he played much too harshly with a young kitten, and accidentally killed him. The kitten’s mother chased Rambo out of the yard, and we never saw him again. But we’ve heard plenty about him recently—he’s gathered up a gang of nasty rogues in a junkyard not far from here. I heard they killed a dog, but that’s probably just talk. Either way, they’re pretty fierce.” 

“No kidding,” Scorchclaw growled. “Er…thanks for the information, Ralph.”

“No problem. I hope it helps,” said Ralph. He suddenly noticed Snowpaw, and scooted back, yelping, “Dear god, what happened to your face!?”

“He was attacked by dogs,” said Newtpaw, coming to stand defensively in front of Snowpaw. “Don’t stare at his face, it’s rude.” 

“Oh…I’m sorry,” Ralph mumbled, looking down at the ground. With a disgusted grunt, he said, “I don’t understand why some dogs attack cats. It’s just not right. It makes me ashamed of my kind.”

Suddenly, three kits came running over to Ralph. “Uncle Ralph is awake!” a dark red tabby tom-kit yelled, jumping onto Ralph’s back. A silver tabby she-kit swatted at his ears, while the third one, a light brown tabby tom-kit, nipped at his tail. 

“Hey, be gentle!” said Ralph, pulling his tail away. 

“Who are these guys?” the she-kit asked. 

“They’re…uh…I forgot what they call themselves,” said Ralph. 

“ShadowClan,” said Scorchclaw, pulling his tail away from a kit that was batting at it. “And we best be getting back there now.” 

“Oh, I see you’ve met mine and Sylvia’s kits,” purred Spicy as he walked over. “Meet Taco, Nacho, and Tequila,” he said, pointing to each with his tail. 

“These new cats stink!” said the light brown tabby kit, wrinkling his nose. 

“Nacho, be polite to our guests!” Spicy scolded.

“Weird names,” Juniperclaw murmured under his breath. 

“Yeah, well what’s your name?” the dark red tabby kit, Taco, stared the much larger black tom down. 

“His name is Juniperclaw,” said Newtpaw. Puffing out his chest, he added, “I’m Newtpaw! I’m a ShadowClan apprentice.” 

Taco tilted his head in confusion. “What’s an apprentice?”

“It’s when you’re old enough to be trained to become a warrior!” said Newtpaw.

Taco looked over at Spicy. “Are we going to become warriors too, Father?”

“Eh…no, son, we’re not forest cats,” said Spicy. 

“Oh.” Taco looked a bit disappointed. 

“What does “Taco” mean?” Newtpaw asked the kit. 

“I don’t know,” said Taco with a shrug. “The Twolegs give us our names.” 

“What happened to your face?” Nacho noticed Nojaw for the first time. Tequila let out a squeak of terror and hid behind Ralph. 

“It’s okay, he won’t hurt you,” said Newtpaw. “His name is Snowpaw. He lost his jaw to a d…” Newtpaw suddenly remembered Ralph was there and quickly changed the word to, “A giant rat! It was huge and super scary. I killed it!” 

Juniperclaw swatted his apprentice over the head with his tail. “Alright, it’s time we headed out.” 

Ralph groaned and rolled over onto his paws. “Spicy, can you get the gate for me?” he panted. “I’m going to try and track down Rambo.”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” said Spicy. 

“Ha, I’m not scared of a cat,” said Ralph. 

Spicy hopped up onto the fence and moved a small metal object with his paw. Suddenly, a section of the fence swung inward into the yard.

“Bye!” the kits called to the ShadowClan cats as they followed Ralph out. 

“I can’t believe we’re following a _dog,_ ” Scorchclaw murmured under his breath. “What will Tigerstar say?”

 

Ralph led them through the Twoleg place, letting out loud, rapid sniffs as he walked with his gigantic nose pressed to the ground. Snowpaw stayed close to Strikestone, overwhelmed by all the unfamiliar sights and smells.

“Careful, a Twoleg is headed this way,” said Ralph suddenly. “Hide in the hedge!” He pointed his muzzle towards a tall, long bush that ran along the side of the stone path they were on. The cats leaped in, wincing as thorny brambles scraped at their pelts. Snowpaw gasped and hid behind Strikestone as for the first time in his life, he saw a Twoleg walking past. He’d heard that they were furless and tall, with huge heads, but he was still unprepared to see a creature so strange. It walked on its huge hind paws, sending vibrations through the ground as it passed the hedge. When it was out of sight, the cats slid out, and continued their journey. They followed Ralph through a maze of hedges and Twoleg dens, until they came to a more wide open area, with larger structures and several Thunderpaths. Monsters roared along the black paths, spewing foul smelling smoke into the air. 

Scorchclaw hissed. “There are far too many monsters here!” he spat at Ralph. 

“Oh…you mean cars?” Ralph turned his droopy head to Scorchclaw. “They can’t hurt us as long as we stay on the sidewalk.”

Suddenly, something went flying through the air and landed just a whisker length from Snowpaw, smashing on the ground and exploding into pieces. He yelped and jumped back against Strikestone, nearly knocking his mentor over. Palepaw cried out in terror and hid behind Mintwhisker—standing just a few lengths away was a wiry, skinny Twoleg. It had long, scraggly fur hanging from its head, reeked horribly, and was jeering at the cats with a mean look in his beady little eyes. He’d thrown something at them. They scattered, running away from the Twoleg and fleeing across the nearest Thunderpath. A monster came barreling down on Snowpaw; he quickly flattened himself to the black stone of the path. The monster passed right over him, giving a deafening roar. Snowpaw fled for the light colored path on the other side, leaping towards it and skidding to safety. Mintwhisker jumped on top of Palepaw and crouched over her protectively as another monster passed over them, nearly crushing Mintwhisker’s paw with one of its own large, round black paws. Several more frantic, tense moments passed, but eventually everyone, including Ralph, had made it across the Thunderpath. 

“Is everyone alright?” Ralph panted. 

“You said we’d be safe!” Scorchclaw snarled. He unsheathed his claws and approached Ralph with his dark ginger fur bristling. For a moment, Snowpaw thought the deputy would start slashing at the dog. 

“I’m sorry, I…I’ve never seen a Twoleg throw something at an animal before!” Ralph shrank back.

“We’ll find the rogues’ hideout on our own,” Scorchclaw spat. “We don’t need your help. I should have known not to trust a dog.”

“Hey, it’s not Ralph’s fault!” Newtpaw spoke up. Scorchclaw whirled around to glare at the apprentice. Before he could snarl at Newtpaw for talking back, Ralph said “Please…I can  
find Rambo’s scent, I swear. I may be old, but I’m a basset hound—we’re bred to track things down.” 

“He’s the best lead we have,” said Strikestone. 

“Fine,” Scorchclaw growled. “But if we come across anything else that wants to kill us, we’re out of here.”

Ralph put his nose back down on the ground, leading the cats around a large Twoleg den, into a flat stretch of the same black stone that made up Thunderpaths. A few monsters were scattered about the area, but they appeared to be asleep. Suddenly, Ralph stopped when he came to an odd object—it was metal web that covered a deep, dark hole. Snowpaw could pick up the scent of musty water from down below, not unlike the swamps in ShadowClan’s territory.

“I think I got a whiff of Rambo!” Ralph barked. His nose made a loud pumping noise as he led the cats across the clearing, towards another light colored path. Part of the path rose above the ground, revealing a narrow opening to a cavern underneath. Ralph’s tail wagged furiously as he stuck his nose into the space. 

“That’s Rambo alright!” he exclaimed. “It smells like he and his buddies went down here recently. It leads to a passageway of tunnels—I can’t fit down there, but if you make your way through them, you might find where he and his gang headed off to.” 

“I’ll go down there,” said Scorchclaw. “Strikestone, Juniperclaw, come with me.” 

“Can we come too?” asked Newtpaw.

“Alright, but stay close,” said Juniperclaw firmly. 

The five cats squeezed into the space and jumped down into a hole about a tail length deep. Adjusting their eyes to the dim light, they could make out a tunnel in front of them made up of hard, solid material. Scorchclaw led the way, leading them down the narrow passageway. The tunnel was cool and damp, with the sound of falling droplets of water echoing in Snowpaw’s ears. Every now and then, he’d step into a puddle. The faint scents of mice and rats bathed his exposed pallet, and eventually, he began to pick up the scent of unfamiliar cats. 

“That’s definitely the rogues, only those fleabags would have a stench like that,” Scorchclaw spat, his voice echoing in the tunnel. The ShadowClan deputy turned into another tunnel, which had a fair amount of water accumulated on the bottom. Snowpaw screwed up his nose as he waded through the foul smelling pool. They took another turn, and came to an opening with a slit of light at the top. Scrabbling up the stony wall, they pulled themselves through another gap and back outside. Before them were two tall Twoleg nests, with a dark, narrow passageway in between them. 

“This has to be their hideout,” said Strikestone. “Let’s get back into the tunnel before they see us.” 

 

Ralph led the way back to the Twolegplace. When they reached his yard, Scorchclaw muttered, “Um…thank you…Ralph.” 

“Hmph, you’re welcome,” Ralph snorted. He looked at the apprentices. “You youngins take care of yourselves, alright? Rambo and his gang are real nasty pieces of work.” 

“Well, we’re ShadowClan, and we’re not afraid of anything!” Newtpaw puffed out his chest. “We’ll teach those rogues never to set foot in our territory again!” 

Snowpaw dipped his head to Ralph. He had to admit, for a dog, he wasn’t so bad.


	13. Chapter 13

It was Moonhigh, and ShadowClan was preparing to launch an attack on the rogues. All the warriors and apprentices were chosen to go, except for Birchbark, Yarrowleaf, and Darkbriar, who were to stay and guard the camp. 

“Good luck. Be safe,” said Beenose, touching her nose to Strikestone’s. She was very round and expecting their kits any day now.

“I’m going to be coming, too.” Tigerstar emerged from his den. The ShadowClan leader looked quite old in the silvery moonlight. His dark tabby pelt was crisscrossed with scars, and his face was turning gray. However, there was a fierce look in his deep amber eyes. 

“You can’t, Tigerstar!” Scorchclaw protested. “You’re on your last life!” 

“I want to fight for my Clan,” said Tigerstar. “If I lose my last life defending my Clan mates, then so be it.” 

Scorchclaw sighed and hung his head. “You better not die,” he growled. 

“Alright, ShadowClan! Let us fight for our territory!” Tigerstar yowled, raising his tail. The whole Clan yowled along with him, and they headed out. 

One by one, the ShadowClan warriors crept out of the tunnels, silently heading for the dark passageway that the rogues made their home in. Their keen eyes cut right through the darkness; Snowpaw hoped that the rogues didn’t have experience fighting at night like ShadowClan did. A Twoleg light hung above the entrance to the passageway, casting an ominous orange glow. Snowpaw could just see the outlines of rogues hunched behind various Twoleg objects, their flanks rising and falling as they slept. 

“ShadowClan! Attack!” Tigerstar yowled. 

In a matter of seconds, the hideout was filled with shrieking and hissing. The rogues confusedly awoke, screeching as the ShadowClan warriors pounced on top of them. Snowpaw darted out of the way as a black tom ran at him. He slashed at his haunch with his claws, leaving deep, bloody marks. His opponent whirled around, screeching and flying at him, but Snowpaw slashed him across the chest. The tom landed sideways in a heap, his face contorted in a snarl. Snowpaw heard a screech for help from behind—he charged at two muscular toms, who had Daycloud pinned down. He slashed one of them right across the face, feeling his claws tear right through his eyes. His opponent let go of Daycloud, rearing up on his hind legs and screaming as blood sprayed from his eye sockets. Daycloud rolled over and kicked the other tom in the stomach, sending him flying. 

“Thanks, Snowpaw,” the cream colored she-cat panted, getting to her paws. “I guess you’re not so worthless after all.” 

Snowpaw ran through the mass of screeching, writhing cats, searching for anymore of his Clan mates that needed help. He saw Nightstrike cornered in the end of the passageway by two huge cats. They leaped in for a killing bite, but suddenly, Nightstrike sprang high into the air, soaring over both of them. He landed and kicked one of the startled rogues in the face, sending the tom sprawling. In one swift mood, Nightstrike had his fangs in his opponent’s neck and bit down hard. There was a cracking noise and an explosion of blood, and the rogue went still. His companion ran away, wailing in terror, only to crash into Nightstrike’s father, Blackfang, who slammed the rogue down to the ground and began to thoroughly claw her. Strongfoot and Mintwhisker were facing off against a golden tabby tom, their eyes wild with fury as they battered their opponent. Robinpaw and Palepaw were fighting a young cat together, pinning him down and clawing at his stomach until he begged for mercy. 

Suddenly, Snowpaw heard an agonized screech. He whirled around, his blood running cold as he spotted Newtpaw being pinned down by an old but muscular tom. The rogue was nearly hairless, tufts of white fur dotting his pink skin. He had his long claws against Newtpaw’s throat, and was slowly sinking them in. The apprentice lay there helplessly, his eyes glazed over with terror. Snowpaw was a white blur as he flew at the rogue, biting down directly on the hideous tom’s spine. He let go of Newtpaw, twisting around and snarling. Before Snowpaw could react, he had his fangs buried in his shoulder. He raked his claws across his opponent's flesh, enraged that he couldn’t bite back. But he used his anger to his advantage, letting it build up, until he had twisted out of the other tom’s bite, and clawed him so heavily that the old tom collapsed on his side. Snowpaw pinned him down, slashing at his belly, blood spraying up and soaking his white fur crimson. He didn’t stop until he heard Newtpaw cry, “Snowpaw, that’s enough!” Snowpaw stood back, shaking his claws to dislodge the flesh that had gathered up under his claws. The old tom lay on the ground, his pink skin turned nearly completely red with blood. A weak moan escaped from his mouth.

“ _Tufty!_ ” A white she-cat with a black spot on her forehead was running over to the old tom. Her yellow eyes blazed with hate as she rounded on Snowpaw and Newtpaw.

“You’re gonna pay!” she hissed. The two apprentices sprang out of the way as she leaped at them. Newtpaw ran around the she-cat and clamped his jaws down on the tip of her tail while Snowpaw clawed her upside the face. She screeched at the unexpected pain, and staggered backwards as Newtpaw pulled at her tail. Snowpaw clawed her twice more, on the chest and the foreleg. She turned and fled, blood spreading rapidly through her white fur. 

Snowpaw panted, his muscles aching and his vision spinning slightly before him. For the first time, he noticed that the wound on his shoulder was oozing a lot of blood. 

“You should get out of here, go back to camp and have the medicine cats look at that!” Newtpaw yowled above the sound of battle.

Snowpaw shook his head and narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t done yet—he wouldn’t stop until the rogues had. He looked around, unable to spot Rambo’s dark red coat. Where was the leader? Certainly he wasn’t cowardly enough to hide while his friends fought for him. Suddenly, another tom slammed into Snowpaw, knocking the wind out of him as he was smashed against the ground. He wailed, feeling teeth and claws dig into him. Suddenly, the weight of the other cat disappeared. Snowpaw lifted his head to see Strikestone rolling across the ground with him. He struggled to his paws, hearing a steady ringing in his ears. The reek of blood was everywhere, masking all the cats’ individual scents. A few fox lengths away, two cats had Tawnyclaw pinned down on his back. The pale brown tom snarled and twisted under their grasp—suddenly, one of them plunged his claws deep into the warrior’s throat. Tawnyclaw gasped, and then blood spewed from his mouth. His eyes closed as his body gave a great shudder, and he lay still. Not far away, a she-cat named Lioneye lay motionless, her yellow fur stained red.

A roaring yowl made everyone stop fighting and look towards the entrance to the passageway. Rambo had finally appeared, and was facing off with Tigerstar. The two toms circled each other in the circle of orange light, lashing their tails. 

“Wow, I thought I'd killed you!" said Rambo. "I guess I didn't bite your throat hard enough. I gotta hand it to you, old guy, your warriors aren’t easy to beat!” said Rambo. His amber eyes narrowed mockingly. “But I'll make sure to kill you this time. Say your prayers, you old sack of fleas!” 

The two toms lunged at each other, standing up on their hind legs and gripping one another’s shoulders with their claws. They snapped at each other’s throats, rage burning in their eyes. The rogues and ShadowClan warriors watched as their leaders faced off, matching each other blow for blow, their pelts shining with blood in the strange Twoleg light. Snowpaw’s stomach tightened—although they were both strong, Rambo was much more muscular and younger. He clawed Tigerstar across the face. The old tom staggered slightly, but then lunged forward and swiftly bit down on Rambo’s shoulder. Rambo tugged hard at Tigerstar’s scruff, eventually managing to pull him off and fling him to the ground. Scorchclaw came running over, when suddenly, Tigerstar lifted his head and yowled, “No! No one is to come over! This is a battle between leaders!”

Rambo swooped down for a killing bite, but Tigerstar kicked him hard under the chin with his hind paws. The ShadowClan leader sprang up, his amber eyes blazing with fearlessness as he clawed at the top of Rambo’s head. Rambo sprang away, hissing with fury. Tigerstar ran at him again, but suddenly, slipped on a puddle of blood and went crashing down on his side. It happened before anyone could intervene or react—Rambo was on top of Tigerstar, grabbing the elderly leader’s throat in his jaws and crushing it. Tigerstar’s eyes widened, and then closed, his paws twitching as blood oozed from his nose and mouth. 

_“ROOOWWRRR!!”_ Snowpaw screamed, his paws carrying him to Rambo before he knew what he was doing. The red tom reached out a paw, hitting him hard across the face and sending the apprentice sprawling. He let go of Tigerstar, spitting blood contemptuously from his mouth, and then walked over to Snowpaw, arrogantly waving his tail. 

“Wow, I cannot get over how freaky your face is,” said Rambo. “Your mother must regret having you.” 

The blood boiled in Snowpaw’s veins, making him spring to life and fly at Rambo. The russet tom knocked him down again, pinning him down with a huge paw. 

“Aw, you tried to kill me, that’s cute,” Rambo sneered. “Let me show you how killing is done right!” 

Snowpaw waited until Rambo’s jaws were just a whisker length from his throat. Then, he struck out with a paw, his heart exploding with immense satisfaction as they sunk deeply into Rambo’s throat. The massive rogue’s eyes bulged. He snarled something incomprehensible and tried to wriggle away. Snowpaw plunged his claws in deeper—Rambo gagged and spat out a mouthful of blood, which dripped down onto Snowpaw’s chest and face. Blinking the scarlet drops out of his eyes, Snowpaw pulled his claws out of Rambo’s throat and crawled away just before the tom collapsed on top of him. He laid there, his paws twitching as an enormous pool of blood spread out from under his throat.

“Rambo!” screamed one of the rogues. “NO!” He went running for Snowpaw, only to be knocked over by Scorchclaw. The deputy put his claws on the rogue’s throat.

“This battle is over,” he hissed. "We have won."

The other rogues sat there, too wounded to move, their eyes dazed with pain and shock as Blackfang and Strongfoot went over to Tigerstar’s body, lifted it up between the two of them, and led the rest of ShadowClan away. 

 

Snowpaw lay in a sunny patch of grass, licking at the huge bite mark on his shoulder. Quietsnow had stopped the bleeding with cobwebs, but they’d since dissolved, and his wound was leaking again. The white medicine cat came over, pressing a fresh new layer of cobwebs against the bite mark. In the center of the clearing lay the bodies of Tigerstar, Tawnyclaw, and Lioneye. Because everyone was heavily wounded, there hadn’t been time yet for a proper vigil for the fallen leader and warriors, but later that day they would be buried. Darkbriar, who was Tigerstar’s daughter, was sitting at his side, licking the last bits of blood from her father’s pelt. It was nearly Sunigh; Scorchclaw had left that morning with Puddleshine to travel to the Moonpool and receive his nine lives. 

“I can’t believe Tigerstar is dead,” Newtpaw whispered. He’d been lying next to Snowpaw. The apprentice stared sadly down into the grass. “I always felt like he was invincible, that nothing could kill him.” 

Snowpaw nodded. Already he missed the wise, fair leader. Being unable to talk, he hadn’t been able to thank Tigerstar for allowing him to become an apprentice again.  
Suddenly, Scorchclaw appeared at the entrance to the camp. His dark ginger fur shimmered like flames in the sunlight, and his amber eyes gave off a nearly unnatural shine.

“Scorchclaw…no, Scorchstar! You’re back!” Fireberry came rushing over to her mate, nuzzling his cheek. Flamewing also went to greet her father. 

“Scorchstar! Scorchstar!” The ShadowClan warriors chanted their leader’s new name. 

“Gather around, everyone,” said Scorchstar. The cats sat around him in a circle as he spoke. 

“All of you fought courageously against the rogues last night,” said Scorchstar. “Tawnyclaw, Lioneye, and Tigerstar all gave their lives for ShadowClan, and we will honor them later today.” 

There was a brief pause of silence as he mentioned the slain cats. Then Scorchstar continued, his eyes brightening as he said, “One of you in particular fought very bravely, and avenged Tigerstar by taking Rambo’s life.” 

Everyone turned to look at Snowpaw. 

“Snowpaw, I will now grant you your warrior name,” said Scorchstar, beckoning to the apprentice with his tail.

Snowpaw trembled as he walked up to Scorchstar. He couldn’t believe it…it was really, finally happening! He spotted Newtpaw shaking with excitement, and Strikestone gazing at him with pride filled eyes. Snowpaw stood before Scorchstar as his new leader raised his muzzle to the sky. 

“I Scorchstar, leader of ShadowClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn. He has had to work harder than most other cats. Against all odds, he has survived a horrific injury, and managed to become one of our most valuable warriors.” 

Scorchstar lowered his head, looking Snowpaw straight in the eyes. “Snowpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Snowpaw nodded.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name,” said Scorchstar. “Although, what I have in mind might not be a name you are expecting. I want all the other Clans to know and fear you by a very unique name.” 

The ShadowClan leader took a breath and then said, “Snowpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Nojaw. StarClan honors your tenacity and bravery, and we welcome you as a full member of ShadowClan."

The newly named cat stood there, staring at Scorchstar. What kind of name was that? Still, he leaned forward and gave his leader’s shoulder a respectful lick.

“Nojaw!” that deafening yowl came from Newtpaw. Strikestone joined in, followed by the rest of the Clan. 

“Nojaw! Nojaw! Nojaw!” they chanted. The young warrior closed his eyes, getting used to the sound of his new name, his uneasiness giving away to a sense of power. Then, opening them, he saw Strongfoot looking right at him, yowling his name with the other cats. He looked back at Scorchstar and nodded.

 _I am Nojaw,_ he said silently.


	14. Chapter 14

“Ugh, I almost had it!” Newtpaw groaned. He had attempted to pounce on a lizard, which had scurried away into a hole. 

“I think I hear a mole scuffling around over there,” said Juniperclaw, angling his ears towards a shrub. 

Newtpaw sighed and turned in that direction. Nojaw felt a stab of pity for his friend. It had been three moons since the battle with the rogues, and since then Newtpaw’s siblings had gained their warrior names, Robinclaw and Paleheart. Newtpaw, however, had been unable to pass his warrior’s assessment, and was the only apprentice left in ShadowClan.

Suddenly, Nojaw caught a scent on the breeze. He let out an alarmed meow, his fur bristling as he recognized the smell of RiverClan. Juniperclaw and Newtpaw sniffed the air, their eyes widening. 

“Stay close to me,” Juniperclaw murmured to the young toms. They tread lightly as they followed the scent, eventually spotting five RiverClan warriors at a swampy area near the border. The ShadowClan cats crouched behind a bush, watching the intruders. 

“Do you think we could find decent fish here?” said a silver tom, pawing at the murky water. 

“I doubt it,” snorted a dark brown tabby she-cat with ginger streaks in her fur. 

“Stop complaining and start hunting.” That order came from Shaleclaw, the RiverClan deputy. Nojaw hissed quietly, remembering when he encountered the arrogant tom moons ago. 

“Stay here and keep an eye on them,” Juniperclaw whispered to Nojaw and Newtpaw. “I’m going to bring more warriors.”

Nojaw and Newtpaw hunkered down in the undergrowth, watching the RiverClan cats as they looked around for prey. Coldstar had mentioned at the last Gathering that some of the fish in the river had disappeared, but the RiverClan warriors didn’t look like they were starving. Nojaw unsheathed his claws, sinking them into the earth and angrily lashing his tail. Suddenly, a toad went hopping through the swamp, croaking as the silver tom chased after it. He followed the prey right towards the bushes where Nojaw and Newtpaw were hiding. Nojaw burst out of the undergrowth, hissing right in the RiverClan tom’s face. The silver cat shrieked, jumping back in fright. 

“It’s N-Nojaw!” he stammered, recognizing the tom’s mangled face from Gatherings. “Run!” 

“Don’t be a coward, Shinyfur,” Shaleclaw spat. The dark gray tabby tom smugly sauntered up to Nojaw. 

“So, we meet again,” the RiverClan deputy sneered. “It looks like you don’t have any friends to back you up this time.” 

“Wrong!” Newtpaw hopped out of the bushes, snarling at Shaleclaw. “Get off our territory!”

Shaleclaw’s gray eyes glittered with amusement. “You think I’m afraid of you, you puny apprentice?”

Newtpaw jumped forward and sank his teeth into Shaleclaw’s foreleg. Shaleclaw let out a surprised cry, then furiously shook Newtpaw off, sending him rolling. Newtpaw sprang to his paws as the deputy advanced on him, sliding under Shaleclaw’s legs and slashing at his belly. The dark furred tom yowled, staggering sideways. Nojaw lunged at Shaleclaw and slashed at his side. With an enraged hiss, Shaleclaw leaped at Nojaw, who nimbly leaped out of the way and ran his claws along Shaleclaw’s other side. Suddenly, he caught a whiff of stinking, hot breath on his shoulder, and jumped out of the way just before a huge dark brown tom could bowl him over from behind. He lashed out, clawing a clump of bloody fur from his opponent’s shoulder. The big tom shrank back, ears pinned down as he narrowly avoided a swipe across the face. Shinyfur came running up from behind Nojaw, who whirled around and swiftly clawed him across the chest. The silver tom fled, wailing in pain. 

“Shinyfur, you spineless fleabag, get back here!” Shaleclaw roared. 

Nojaw turned back towards the RiverClan deputy, but suddenly heard a high-pitched cry. The tabby she-cat and a ginger she-cat had Newtpaw pinned down between them. He struggled and writhed, but stopped when the ginger she-cat clawed him across the stomach. Nojaw ran to his friend, but was bowled over by the dark brown tom. He kicked and clawed with all his might, but his opponent was incredibly strong and muscular. Nojaw gagged as the tom’s foul, fish-smelling breath flooded his nostrils. The RiverClan warrior spread his jaws, about to bite down on Nojaw’s throat, when an enraged screech split the air. A light brown blur went flying into Nojaw’s attacker, sending him staggering off of the white tom. Nojaw jumped to his paws amazed to see that Newtpaw had the much larger tom grasped in his claws, and was biting very deeply into his shoulder. He then swiftly jumped back--the other tom’s jaws snapped shut just a whisker length from where he had just been. Nojaw rushed over to his friend, and together they faced off the RiverClan tom, slashing at him from either side. Suddenly, Shaleclaw appeared and grabbed Newtpaw by the scruff, flinging him through the air. The tabby apprentice fell heavily into the swamp water, sending up a spray of mud. 

“Honestly, Shrewfang, you should have crushed these two puny cats by now!” Shaleclaw snarled at the dark brown tom, who was bleeding heavily. 

“They’re just…too fast…” Shrewfang gasped, his legs trembling.

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to fight them for you,” Shaleclaw spat. He looked over to the two she-cats, who were both bleeding from where Newtpaw had bit them deeply. 

“Otterflame, Brightsplash, get off your rears and fight!” the RiverClan deputy barked. 

Suddenly, the bushes rustled, and a snarling dark ginger face appeared. Scorchstar went flying through the air, claws outstretched, and landed on Shaleclaw. More warriors came rushing into the clearing—Flamewing, Strikestone, Strongfoot, Blackfang, Sleekwhisker, and Juniperclaw. They formed a circle around the RiverClan cats, hissing menacingly with fangs and claws exposed. 

“Give it up, Shaleclaw! You’re surrounded!” Scorchstar snarled in the RiverClan deputy’s face, having pinned the dark gray tabby down on his back. 

“Don’t give up!” Shaleclaw yowled to his warriors. “Keep fighting!” 

Otterflame, the tabby she-cat, lunged towards Blackfang, but Sleekwhisker was on top of her in a flash, sending her crashing to the ground. Blackfang leaped over to the ginger she-cat, Brightsplash, and began exchanging blows with her. Scorchstar continued to grapple with Shaleclaw, while the others fought Shrewfang. Nojaw ran over to Newtpaw, who was getting to his feet and shaking mud from his coat. 

“I’m okay,” he said. 

“MRRROOWW!” Scorchstar screeched in pain as Shaleclaw clamped his fangs down on his face. The ShadowClan leader tried to twist away, but the dark tabby hung on. Flamewing came rushing over, pulling Shaleclaw off her father and rearing up on her hind legs to slash at him. Suddenly, Shaleclaw headbutted her in the stomach, sending her sprawling over on her back. Shaleclaw leapt on top of Flamewing and spread his fangs, about to sink them into her throat…

“GET OFF MY DAUGHTER!!” Scorchstar moved so fast he was an orange blur, grabbing Shaleclaw by the scruff and flinging him to the ground. In flash, he had his fangs wrapped around the deputy’s neck. Scorchstar’s eyes were furious amber slits as he bit down hard. Shaleclaw’s own gray eyes bulged out of his head as blood exploded from his throat. He let out a faint cough, and then went limp in the ShadowClan leader's jaws.

“Shaleclaw!” Shrewfang wailed. The huge tom sank down on his haunches, too exhausted to fight anymore. Scorchstar dropped Shaleclaw’s body to the ground and contemptuously spat out his enemy’s blood. 

“Take your deputy’s body and get out of here,” Scorchstar snarled. “Tell Coldstar that this is his punishment for having you invade our territory.” 

“Coldstar…didn’t...tell us to do this,” Otterflame said in between heaving breaths. “It was all…Shaleclaw’s idea…” 

Scorchstar curled his lip. “Then you better hope that Coldstar doesn’t exile you for being filthy traitors. Get out!” 

Otterflame and Brightsplash heaved Shaleclaw’s body onto their backs. Shrewfang staggered after them as they headed back towards RiverClan. 

“Scorchstar, y—you killed Shaleclaw.” Newtpaw’s eyes were wide with shock. “I hope we don’t go to war with RiverClan over this…”

“How dare you question your leader!” snarled Strongfoot, who had become the new deputy. 

“I had to kill him” said Scorchstar curtly. “He tried to kill Flamewing, in case you didn’t see it.” 

Scorchstar looked over towards his daughter, who was licking at a bloody scratch on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked her. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. 

“It seems like Nojaw and Newtpaw had already injured them pretty well before we got here,” said Juniperclaw, walking over to his apprentice. 

“Yeah, Otterflame and Brightsplash had me pinned, but Shaleclaw was hurting Nojaw really badly, so I bit both of them to make them let me go. I pulled Shaleclaw off Nojaw, and then he chased Shinyfur away!” said Newtpaw. 

“It seems I’ve trained you well,” Juniperclaw purred. He turned to Scorchstar. “I think maybe Newtpaw is ready to become a warrior.” 

Scorchstar hesitated for a moment, and then nodded and said, “Yes, I think he’s finally earned his name.” 

Newtpaw gasped, his eyes shining with kit-like excitement. He turned to Nojaw, crying out, “Did you hear that!? I’m going to be a _warrior!_ ” 

Nojaw licked Newtstripe’s ear, feeling just as excited as his friend.

 

The ShadowClan warriors sat in a circle as they watched Scorchstar approach Newtpaw. The leader’s face was partially obscured by cobwebs, which the medicine cats had applied to the bite wound from Shaleclaw. Newtpaw, whose shoulder and stomach were wrapped in cobwebs, gazed up at Scorchstar, his paws trembling with excitement.

“I Scorchstar, leader of ShadowClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn,” said Scorchstar. “Newtpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” said Newtpaw. 

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I grant you your warrior name,” said Scorchstar. “Newtpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Newtstripe. StarClan honors your honesty and loyalty, and we welcome you as a full member of ShadowClan.”

Newtstripe gave Scorchstar’s shoulder a lick, and then stepped back. 

“Newtstripe! Newtstripe!” the Clan chanted. Darkbriar, Robinclaw, and Paleheart were among the loudest. Newtstripe purred, obviously happy that he had finally made his family proud of him. He then walked over to Nojaw, touching his forehead affectionately to his friend’s. 

“Thank you, Nojaw,” he murmured. “I would have never become a warrior had it not been for you.”


	15. Chapter 15

Nojaw hobbled into the camp, a freshly caught lizard skewered on his claws. Next to him, Newtstripe was carrying a toad in his jaws. They had just returned from a hunting patrol. The camp was buzzing with activity—Strongfoot was organizing another patrol, and Quietsnow was outside the medicine den, pulling a large thorn out of Blackfang’s pad. Others were lying around sharing tongues, and Beenose was sitting outside the nursery, watching her sons, Roughkit and Snakekit, wrestle with each other. Roughpaw was a pudgy little brown tabby, while Snakekit was skinny and had a brown tabby and white coat. Nojaw looked towards the elder’s den, which was no longer empty. Strikestone and Juniperclaw had retired, since their apprentices were now fully trained, and their sister, Sleekwhisker, had joined them. 

Suddenly, Nojaw felt a painful tug at his tail. He turned around to see that Snakekit had bounded over and grabbed the tip of it in his teeth, which were tiny but sharp as thorns. 

“Snakekit! Let go of him!” Beenose scolded. “I’m so sorry, Nojaw.” She picked Snakekit up by his scruff and carried him away. The tiny tom growled and swiped at the air. 

Suddenly, Nightstrike emerged from inside the nursery. Goldendawn had just bore him two sons as well--Spottedkit and Coalkit. The black tom narrowed his eyes at Nojaw. “Why are you always staring at me?” he snapped. 

“He isn’t staring at you,” said Newtstripe defensively, his tabby fur bristling. He then cleared his throat and attempted to change the subject. “How are the kits?”

Nightstrike cocked his head arrogantly. “I’ll have you know that they’re just perfect,” he said. “They’ll become great warriors, like me.” Then with a snort, he said, “I still can’t believe Scorchstar let you become a warrior, Nojaw. You can’t even eat on your own." 

“He killed _Rambo!_ ” Newtstripe’s anger returned, the fur bristling along his spine. 

Nightstrike snorted. “That was sheer dumb luck.” 

“No, it wasn’t,” Newtstripe growled. “You saw it happen.” 

“Why are you always hanging around Nojaw, anyways?” Nightstrike curled his lip. “Is he expecting your kits?” 

Nojaw let out a low hiss, resisting the urge to claw the dark tom across the face. 

“Have you ever heard of something called a friend?” Newtstripe snapped. “Or are you too stupid to understand what that is?” 

“Shut up!” Nightstrike snarled. He lashed his tail and walked away. 

“What is that fleabag’s problem?” Newtstripe murmured under his breath. He turned to Nojaw. “I swear, I think Nightstrike believes he’s our leader sometimes and can say anything he wants.”

Nojaw nodded, narrowing his yellow eyes. 

Newtstripe let out a heavy sigh, and then looked over to where Paleheart and Mintwhisker were sharing tongues. 

“They seem closer than former mentor and apprentice,” he muttered. “And come to think of it, Robinclaw and Daycloud have been hanging around each other a lot, too. I guess more ShadowClan kits could be on the way!” 

Nojaw gave Newtstripe a curious look. 

“I don’t know if I want kits,” he said with a shrug. “All the she-cats in this Clan seem to be taken, anyways.” 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Nojaw suddenly spotted Scorchstar and Strongfoot talking to each other. 

“Oh, the Gathering is tonight!” Newtstripe exclaimed. “I hope we’re chosen to go—if so, it’ll be my first Gathering as a warrior!” 

Nojaw nodded. He’d started to attend Gatherings again, although really it was to keep Newstripe company. Word had gotten around the Clans of how powerful of a warrior Nojaw had become, but he still disliked seeing other cats gawking at his appearance and keeping their distance from him.

 

Sure enough, Nojaw and Newtstripe were both among those chosen to go to the Gathering. It was a clear night; the lake was illuminated silver by a huge, round moon. A chill in the air nipped at the cats’ fur, reminding them that leaf-bare was approaching. One by one, the ShadowClan warriors made their way across the ancient fallen log that acted as a bridge to the island. The other three Clans were already there, gathering around the trees where the leaders sat. Nojaw’s fur prickled slightly, feeling claustrophobic as he made his way through the thick crowd. He accidentally bumped up against another tom, who turned around and hissed. 

“Watch where you’re going!” he spat. The tom’s golden eyes suddenly grew wide as he realized it was Nojaw he was talking to. Nojaw recognized the large pale brown tabby as Swifthawk, the ThunderClan warrior who had made fun of him as an apprentice at his first Gathering. 

“Oh, uh…sorry, Nojaw,” he said nervously. He backed away, slipping deeper into the crowd. Nojaw felt a flicker of satisfaction in his chest—he now intimidated even the fiercest warriors from other Clans. However, he felt his heart sink slightly as other cats stepped away from him, leaving only Newtstripe to sit next to him. As soon as Scorchstar made his way up his tree, the Gathering began. Olivestar of WindClan spoke first, but he had nothing interesting to report. As Coldstar of RiverClan prepared to address the Clans, a thick sense of tension grew in the air, making the fur rise along Nojaw’s spine. He suddenly remembered that Scorchstar had killed RiverClan’s deputy—how was Coldstar going to react? 

“Shaleclaw is dead,” the dark gray tom rumbled. “He was killed in a battle with ShadowClan. Our new deputy is Splitgaze.”

Nojaw noticed a new cat sitting among the other deputies by the base of the leaders’ trees—Splitgaze was a sleek black she-cat with an odd gaze. One of her eyes was blue, and the other was green. 

Coldstar dipped his head to Scorchstar. “I am sorry that Shaleclaw trespassed on your territory. He had wanted to hunt there due to the fish disappearing, but I told him we would not be doing that. He disobeyed me, and led some of our warriors into your hunting grounds.” 

“Well, I hope your new deputy has the sense to stay out of our land,” growled Scorchstar. 

An angry yowl came from one of the RiverClan cats. Nojaw recognized Shrewfang, the large brown cat he’d fought. The claw marks from the last battle were still visible on his pelt. 

“Aren’t we going to get revenge for Shaleclaw!?” he exclaimed. 

Coldstar looked down at Shaleclaw. There was a mixture of sternness and sadness in the aging leader’s blue eyes. 

“My brother paid the ultimate price for his disloyalty,” said Coldstar. “Invading ShadowClan’s territory was pointless—there is no need to start a war just before leaf-bare, when all the Clans will be short on prey.” 

Nojaw was amazed at the leader’s attitude—even though Shaleclaw had been his brother, he was determined to keep peace. The next cat to speak was Sapstar, the newly appointed leader of ThunderClan. Sparkstar had passed away of old age just a moon after Tigerstar’s death. Sitting between Splitgaze and Strongfoot was ThunderClan’s new deputy—Swifthawk’s father Redwing. 

“ThunderClan has some good news,” said Sapstar. His mottled brown and golden coat gleamed in the moonlight. “Two kits have been born this past moon. Ravenstorm has given birth to a tom, Shadekit, and Silverlily has given birth to a she-cat, Lichenkit. Meanwhile, Oakflower’s kits are growing fast. They’ll be able to be apprentices in three moons.” 

Sapstar dipped his head to Scorchstar, who spoke next. 

“ShadowClan is doing well,” he said. “Goldendawn has given birth to two kits—Spottedkit and Coalkit. Also, we have a new warrior, Newtstripe.” 

Nojaw yowled loudly as his friend’s name was chanted. Newtstripe purred, his amber eyes shining with pride. 

“There is also something I’d like to discuss,” said Scorchstar, turning his head to Sapstar. “Leaf-bare is approaching, and prey is becoming scarce in our territory. ThunderClan has a narrow strip of territory near our border that they hardly use—perhaps we could hunt there come leaf-bare?”

Sapstar pinned down his ears, eyes widening in shock. Angry yowls rang out from the ThunderClan warriors. 

“How could you even ask that!?” Sapstar snapped. “Those are not your hunting grounds!” 

“We have kits to feed,” said Scorchstar, narrowing his eyes. 

“So do we!” Sapstar’s fur bristled as he bared his teeth. 

“You hypocrite!” That was Splitgaze, yelling up at Scorchstar. The black she-cat furiously lashed her tail. “You get angry when some RiverClan warriors trespass on your territory, but you ask ThunderClan if you can trespass on theirs?” 

“Enough!” That yowl came from Coldstar. Lashing his tail, the gray tom said, “This is getting out of hand. RiverClan is going home.” 

“I think I’ll be taking my Clan home too,” said Olivestar, following Coldstar down the trunk. 

“Whatever,” said Scorchstar, tapping the branch he was sitting on with his tail, watching the two leaders with a contemptuous look as they left. “This doesn’t concern your Clans, anyways.” 

“You are not hunting on our territory! That is final!” Sapstar snarled. 

“Fine then, we won’t,” said Scorchstar tersely. “That’s why I asked first. I get it, we’ll stay out.”

“You better,” Sapstar hissed. “If we see any ShadowClan warriors on our territory, we will make you regret it.” 

Nojaw and Newtstripe. exchanged an alarmed glance. 

“What is Scorchstar _thinking?_ ” Newtstripe whispered. “How could he possibly have expected Sapstar to agree to that?” 

Nojaw shook his head, watching Scorchstar climb down his tree. Redwing pinned down his ears and hissed menacingly at Strongfoot as he got up to follow his leader. 

“Try and steal our prey, ShadowClan scum!” That was Swifthawk, loudly challenging the enemy Clan. “I’ll fight anyone who puts a paw over the border!” 

Nojaw growled and got to his feet, remembering why he hated Gatherings. There was so much less drama when he stayed in the camp. 

As the ShadowClan warriors walked home, they began to argue among themselves. 

“Scorchstar, I’m not questioning your leadership,” said Mintwhisker calmly. “But I don’t think we really need that small piece of ThunderClan territory. It’s not exactly rich in prey.” 

“It's my duty to make sure we’re all fed this leaf-bare!” Scorchstar hissed in response. “ThunderClan always has more than enough prey." 

“Not always,” said Darkbriar. “All the Clans have faced starvation at some point.” 

“Are you sympathizing with our enemy?” Scorchstar snarled, aiming a fierce glare at the dark brown tabby she-cat.

Darkbriar curled her tail over her back defensively. “No, I’m just using logic,” she retorted. “It’s something that you seem to lack.” 

“How dare you talk to your leader that way!” Strongfoot yowled. 

“Well _I_ think it’s a good idea,” said Flamewing. “Those chubby ThunderClan cats always eat more than their fair share.”

Fireberry nodded in agreement. “I’d rather slightly disobey the warrior code than let my Clan mates starve.” 

Nojaw looked up to the sky, where a dark cloud was drifting over the moon. Somehow, he had an ominous feeling about this leaf-bare...


	16. Chapter 16

Nojaw fluffed up his white fur against the cold. Leaf-bare had come early, and it was already a bitter one. Snow had fallen the night before, covering the camp in a thick, frosty powder. Over by the nursery, the kits were jumping around in it. 

“You can’t catch me!” Coalkit, a little black tom, hopped through the snow. 

“Oh yes I can!” His brother, Spottedkit, whose fur was golden with black flecks, leaped high into the air and pounced on Coalkit, pinning him under the snow. The two little toms squealed as they wrestled, flinging white flakes everywhere. Beenose’s kits were also chasing each other. Roughkit let out a yelp as Snakekit threw a pawful of snow at him. He growled and leaped over at his brother, pinning him down. Snakekit clamped his teeth down hard on Roughkit’s foreleg. 

“OW! Mama, he bit me!” Roughkit wailed. 

“Snakekit likes to bite a lot.” Nojaw jumped—he hadn’t realized Newtstripe had come out of the warrior’s den. 

“Sorry….it’s just that kit kind of violent for such a little thing,” said Newtstripe with a frown.

Nojaw nodded in agreement as he watched Beenose separate her sons. He winced as a cold breeze blew across his face—this freezing weather was stinging the exposed flesh where his jaw used to be.

“Does your mouth hurt?” Newtstripe asked Nojaw, who nodded. 

“I’ll get Quietsnow to get you some herbs,” he said, heading for the medicine den. Nojaw followed Newtstripe inside, wanting to avoid the cold as much as possible.

“Hey, Quietsnow, the cold wind is hurting Nojaw’s mouth,” said Newtstripe. 

“I’ll get a poultice ready then,” said the white she-cat, rummaging through her stores. Puddleshine was curled up asleep in his nest—the older medicine cat was leaving most of his duties to Quietsnow these days, and would probably join the elders soon. Quietsnow chewed up a mouthful of nettles, and then gingerly rubbed the green paste over the torn flesh beneath Nojaw’s muzzle. 

“Hopefully that will soothe the stinging for the time being,” she said. 

Nojaw nodded his head gratefully to her, and then he and Newtstripe headed out of the den. 

“Hey.” Robinclaw came up to them. “Strongfoot wants you both on the morning patrol.” 

Nojaw groaned inwardly—he was hoping to be allowed to go back to sleep, since he was in pain and it was so cold outside. At least his father was acknowledging him as a skilled warrior these days. Nojaw and Newtstripe joined Strongfoot over by the entrance to the camp, along with Flamewing, Mintwhisker, Paleheart, and Nightstrike. They headed out in search of prey, the snow lightly crunching under their paws. Nojaw drank in the frosty air, trying to scent any small animals hiding from the cold. However, he couldn’t detect any. His stomach rumbled—he’d barely eaten anything these past few days. Prey had suddenly gone scarce, and the little they could find had been given to the queens and their kits. 

Upon reaching the swampy area, Nojaw suddenly heard a faint croaked. He swiveled his ears to see a toad sitting on a rock in the middle of a pool. He crept stealthily forward, but let out a gasp as his paw slid on the surface of the water—he hadn’t realized it had iced over. He went sliding across the ice and slammed right into the rock, letting out a shriek of pain as it made contact with the sensitive spot beneath his muzzle. Startled, the toad hopped away. Nojaw snarled and got to his feet as he heard Nightstrike sneering behind him. 

“Behold Nojaw, the mighty hunter,” the black warrior said mockingly. However, in the middle of his boasting, Nightstrike failed to realize that his paw was getting caught on a tree root, and he went sprawling into a puddle of ice and mud. Nojaw bit back a purr as Nightstrike struggled to his paws, hissing and shaking the filth from his dark coat. 

“It doesn’t look like there’s any prey anywhere,” said Paleheart worriedly. 

“We just have to keep looking,” said Mintwhisker reassuringly.

“Or…” Flamewing turned her gaze to the south. “We could search that bit of land that ThunderClan barely uses.” 

Mintwhisker shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“What, are you afraid of a few ThunderClan warriors?” Nightstrike lashed his tail, as if anticipating the thrill of a battle. “They’re so fat and clumsy, we could beat them easily!” 

“My father wants us to do it, so why not?” said Flamewing. “Our Clan is starving, so who cares if we make ThunderClan a bit grumpy?” 

“I agree,” said Strongfoot with a nod. 

“I don’t,” said Newtstripe, his tabby pelt bristling with unease. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“You get a bad feeling about everything, Newtstripe,” Nightstrike growled. “You’re a coward.”

“Well, I’m leading this patrol, so I say we go,” said Strongfoot. 

Nojaw and Newtstripe exchanged wary glances as the patrol headed towards the ThunderClan border. Mintwhisker and Paleheart also seemed hesitant to trespass on another Clan’s territory, however, they said nothing. The pine trees slowly gave away to oaks as the earthly, musky scent of ThunderClan flowed across Nojaw’s tongue.

“Look! Prey!” Flamewing whispered, pointing with her paw. In the near distance, a robin was pecking at the snow in search of food. 

“Nojaw, why don’t you catch it?” Strongfoot suggested. “Your white coat will blend in with the snow.” 

Nojaw crouched down, lightly stepping through the snow. The robin turned its back to him, continuing to dig around for seeds. When he was a tail length behind the unsuspecting bird, Nojaw held his breath and unsheathed his long claws. He sprang into the air, trapping the startled robin between his paws and sinking the ends of his claws into its throat. 

“Yeah, Nojaw!” Newtstripe cheered. 

But the victorious feeling was short-lived, as suddenly, an orange flash burst through the undergrowth and landed in front of Nojaw, snarling in his face. Jumping backwards, Nojaw recognized the ginger tabby tom from Gatherings as a ThunderClan warrior named Amberclaw. 

“Get out of our territory, ShadowClan scum!” he yowled furiously. 

More ThunderClan cats slipped out of the bushes, circling the ShadowClan invaders and hissing. Redwing was the last to emerge; a thunderous growl rumbled in the ThunderClan deputy’s chest. 

“Don’t just stand there! Defend yourselves!” Strongfoot ordered to the ShadowClan cats. 

Nojaw slithered away just as a dark gray tom came leaping at him. The ThunderClan warrior landed awkwardly and skidded in the snow, falling over on his side. Before Nojaw could take advantage of this, however, Amberclaw jumped protectively in front of his Clan mate and latched his teeth onto Nojaw’s shoulder. The two toms stood up on their hind legs, wildly slashing at each other with their claws. Soon, the clearing was full of writhing, screeching cats. Scarlet drops of blood sprayed across the white snow. Amberclaw flung Nojaw down to the ground, knocking the breath out of the jawless tom. The ginger tabby pinned him down as the dark gray tom began to slash at Nojaw’s belly. He howled in agony as the ThunderClan warrior’s claws sliced through the soft flesh. Suddenly, the gray tom stopped, screeching and whirling around. Newstripe had grabbed his tail in his teeth. That gave Nojaw just enough time to wriggle out from Amberclaw and lash out at the gray tom, creating long claw marks all the way from his foreleg up to his shoulder. With a wail, he fled, disappearing into the forest. Suddenly, a black tom and a light brown tabby tom came running at Nojaw and Newtstripe from opposite directions. The two ShadowClan cats ducked just in time, and the ThunderClan toms violently knocked heads and fell over stunned in the snow. Nojaw and Newtstripe stood there panting as their Clan mates continued to fight—Strongfoot was wrestling with Redwing, Nightstrike was facing off with Amberclaw, while Mintwhisker and Paleheart had cornered a gray tabby tom against a large oak. 

“Give it up, ThunderClan.” Flamewing spat out a mouthful of blood and gave an arrogant smirk. “We’re winning.” 

At that moment, the dark gray tom from earlier burst into the clearing, followed by several other ThunderClan cats. Flamewing’s smug amber eyes quickly filled with horror as she realized they were outnumbered now. 

“Flamewing! Go get help!” Strongfoot ordered as he slashed Redwing across the face. 

The ginger she-cat sprinted in the direction of the border, only to be blocked by two more ThunderClan warriors—a long haired white tom and a gray and white she-cat. Nojaw nodded to Newtstripe; he took the tom, while his friend took the she-cat. They swiftly knocked the ThunderClan cats down, letting Flamewing make a run for it. Nojaw tussled with his opponent, sinking his claws into his thick white fur. The ThunderClan cat bit into his side; Nojaw yowled, screwing his eyes shut against the explosion of pain. Feeling warm blood oozing from the wound, Nojaw purposefully went limp, letting the fury inside him slowly build up as the white tom released him. Then, Nojaw sprang, smashing the tom down into the snow and clawing at his fluffy white pelt until it began to turn red and damp. The tom screeched for mercy; Nojaw stepped back and examined his claws, which tufts of fur had gathered up under. He slipped into a holly bush as the battle roared on, taking a break to scrape the unwanted hair out of his claws with his upper fangs. 

An ear-splitting cry made Nojaw come out of his hiding place. Another white ThunderClan warrior, this one short-furred, had Paleheart pinned down. The ShadowClan she-cat was heavily breathing as blood gushed from a gash in her side. Mintwhisker was struggling with two other warriors, frantically trying to claw his way past them to get to Paleheart. Newtstripe jumped over a ThunderClan she-cat and ran to his sister, only to be knocked over by the large dark gray tom. Nojaw went barreling towards the white tom that had Paleheart trapped, letting out one of his signature unnatural-sounding yowls from his damaged mouth. The ThunderClan warrior jumped back, his blue eyes wide with terror. Nojaw stood protectively over Paleheart, lashing his tail warningly. The other tom turned and fled.

“Thanks, Nojaw!” Paleheart gasped, getting to her paws. He nodded to her, and then he went to find Newtstripe. He found his friend at the edge of the battlefield, staggering as blood dripped into his eyes. There was a deep, nasty wound on his forehead, and one his paws was badly bitten. Nojaw leaned against Newtstripe, helping him walk and steering him away from the battlefield. 

“No, I can…I can still fight,” Newtstripe protested in between pants. 

Nojaw butted his friend’s shoulder hard with his head, glaring at him to get back to the ShadowClan camp. He heard thunderous paw steps behind him as even more ThunderClan cats arrived, and hissed at Newtstripe to get going. He turned around just in time to see a huge deep brown tom he knew as Batfang lunging at him. Nojaw wasn’t able to get away in time—Batfang knocked the air out of him as he landed on him, squashing him into the snow. Nojaw yelped and clawed furiously at Batfang’s sides, but the ThunderClan tom would not budge. He glared down at Nojaw with poisonous yellow eyes, airing his hot, putrid breath right into his nostrils. 

“Ha, not so powerful now, are you, you mutilated freak?” Swifthawk’s face came into view, leering smugly down at Nojaw. 

_Fight me yourself, you coward!_ Nojaw meant to scream, but only a gurgled yowl came out. 

“I’ll put this wretched thing out of his misery,” Batfang growled. He spread his jaws towards Nojaw’s throat, but suddenly stopped, his golden eyes flickering with alarm. Nojaw could hear and smell several new cats that had just arrived—Flamewing had finally brought back-up! 

A cream colored blur went flying into Batfang, who yelled and staggered off of Nojaw. Nojaw slithered away as quick as a snake, seeing that his rescuer was Daycloud. She had her jaws clamped tightly onto Batfang’s ear; the she-cat pulled and twisted, coming away with a good sized chunk of flesh. Batfang turned and ran, screeching as blood exploded from his ear. 

“Huh, I guess I've paid you back for the time you saved me from the rogues,” Daycloud said to Nojaw, wiping blood from her muzzle with a paw. Nojaw gratefully touched the tip of his tail to the she-cat’s shoulder, and then turned and ran at Swifthawk. The large tabby’s eyes widened, and he turned and ran the other way. Nojaw picked up speed, springing into the air and landing on Swifthawk’s back, digging his claws in, demanding the ThunderClan cat to fight him. Swifthawk twisted his head around, his eyes blazing as his fear turned into rage. He flung Nojaw off his back; he landed squarely on all fours and began exchanging blows with Swifthawk. The huge cat was quite strong, with muscles that rippled under his striped pelt as he fought, but Nojaw was much faster. He avoided every swipe from Swifthawk, and then leaped high into the air, landing behind his opponent and clawing him deeply across his haunch. Swifthawk whirled around, screeching viciously. Nojaw meant to strike out at him again--however, he suddenly slipped on a patch of bloody snow, falling over heavily on his side. Swifthawk was on top of him in an instant, snapping at his throat. Nojaw slashed at his attack’s chin and throat with his front claws while tearing up Swifthawk’s belly with his hind claws, screaming, his vision going red as his enemy’s blood rained down on him…

Suddenly, an agonized howl made all the warriors stop. Everyone turned their heads to see the gray tabby warrior from ThunderClan standing over the gray and white she-cat Newstripe had fought earlier. She was lying very still on her side, blood trickling from an enormous wound in her neck as she gazed sightlessly up at the sky. Nojaw was just now noticing that the sun had been blocked out with thick dark gray clouds, casting a dark shadow over the clearing.

“Morningsky,” said the gray tabby in a tiny, trembling voice. “Morningsky, no…”

“Mother!” a tom that resembled Morningsky came running over, his eyes wide with disbelief. “No, no, Mother…wake up…wake up…” He gingerly licked at the hole in his mother’s throat, as if it would bring her back to life. 

“Foggyheart…” a third gray and white cat that seemed like the tom’s sister was standing behind him with trembling legs. “I…I think Mother is dead,” she choked. 

“Morningsky!” the gray tabby threw back his head and howled. Everyone sat and stared silently in disbelief--except for Nightstrike and Flamewing, who were still growling with their fangs bared. Nightstrike’s muzzle was covered in fresh blood—he must have been the one who’d killed Morningsky. 

Swifthawk let Nojaw up, limping over to his fallen Clan mate with a look of horror spread across his face. Nojaw looked around the snowy clearing, which was now completely stained red with blood. Every cat was heavily injured, with eyes glazed over in pain and exhaustion. Some looked ready to collapse. The small border skirmish had evolved into a massive, deadly battle.

“She deserved it.” Nightstrike spoke up. He licked blood from his fangs and twitched the end of his tail. “Morningsky nearly killed me—I was only acting in self-defense.”

A murderous roar came from the gray tabby as he charged at Nightstrike, fangs and claws outstretched. 

“ENOUGH!” 

The booming words brought Morningsky’s mate skidding to a halt. Everyone whipped their heads around to see Sapstar slowly walking into the clearing. He was approaching Scorchstar, who Nojaw just now realized was there. The ThunderClan leader’s eyes glinted with cold fury as he curled his lip at the dark ginger tom.

“Take your warriors and get out.” His voice was quiet, but still filled enough menace to send a chill down Nojaw’s spine. “This battle has gone too far. If we see you on our territory again, we won’t hesitate to kill you.” 

Scorchstar nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. With round, bewildered eyes, he nodded to his warriors, who followed him towards the border as snow began to fall from the sky once more.

“No! I must avenge Morningsky!” Her mate leaped at Nightstrike once more, only to be held down by a yellow tabby tom. 

“Pigeonfeather, that will have to wait another day,” his Clan mate said quietly. 

Pigeonfeather’s screams of agony mingled with a ringing noise in Nojaw’s ears. The reek of blood overwhelmed him, and black dots gathered at the ends of his vision. He was vaguely aware of Mintwhisker running over and catching him as he fell sideways, and then all the sights, sounds, and smells quickly faded away into nothingness.


	17. Chapter 17

Nojaw groaned and squinted against an obnoxiously bright ray of light that shone through the brambles of the warrior’s den. It had been a quarter-moon since the battle with ThunderClan, and all of his wounds still hurt terribly. He turned his head to lick at a slash on his stomach that was bleeding again…he’d have to go to the medicine den for more cobwebs. Quietsnow and Puddleshine had both worked tirelessly to patch everyone up after the battle. Fortunately, no ShadowClan warriors had died, but Nojaw and a few others had passed out from blood loss or exhaustion. Even with several nights of rest, he still felt exhausted. Newtstripe began to stir in the nest next to him. 

“The sun is stupid and I hate it,” he mumbled faintly, screwing up his eyes. The tabby warrior’s paw was still wrapped in cobwebs, having been heavily bitten in the battle. 

Nojaw tried to go back to sleep, tucking his head under his chest, but was unable to rest. His muscles felt sore and stiff, and the wound on his stomach started to bleed more, forming a small pool in his nest. Groaning, he got to his feet and staggered outside towards the medicine den. Thankfully, the air had warmed slightly in the past few days, so it wasn’t bitterly cold this morning. The sun had melted about half of the snow away. Over by the nursery, the kits were all out playing and splashing in the puddles. Nojaw went to the medicine den, where Quietsnow rubbed a heavy poultice onto his wound to stop the bleeding. He then went outside and sat down in a dry patch of grass, welcoming the feel of the warm sun on his aching muscles. After a while, Quietsnow brought him a meal of a chewed up quail on a leaf wrap. Nojaw sighed as he lapped up the mush with his tongue—even though he’d accepted his disability, he still dreaded mealtimes, and missed the days where he could bite into solid prey that hadn’t been in someone else’s mouth.

He looked around the clearing—a quiet, somber mood had fallen over the camp in the days since the battle. Everyone was still too injured to go out on patrols, but they had taken turns guarding the camp entrance in no less than groups of three. Being ShadowClan, no one would admit that the battle had been unnecessary, but their limping gaits and exhausted looks in their eyes said otherwise. The only one who seemed to not be affected was Nightstrike. Nojaw looked across the clearing to see the black warrior sitting with Goldendawn, proudly watching his kits play. Despite his injuries, Nightstrike had been arrogantly strutting around the camp and bossing other cats around as usual. Nojaw narrowed his eyes—he was just sitting there, acting as if nothing had happened. Did he feel any sort of remorse for killing Morningsky? Nojaw wasn’t fond of the other Clans, but remembering how the ThunderClan she-cat’s kits had stared down at her lifeless body sent a shudder down his spine. He’d felt that exact pain before—he knew how excruciating it was.

Suddenly, a loud warning yowl came from over by the camp entrance. All three guards—Birchbark, Yarrowleaf, and Fireberry--were standing with their tails erect and fur bristling. A shape jumped into the air, high above the guards, and landed in the ShadowClan camp. It was Sapstar—he whirled around and yowled, “ThunderClan, attack!”

The cats at the entrance became a whirl of fur, teeth, and claws as several ThunderClan warriors forced their way into the camp. Suddenly, a clump of ferns at the edge of the camp rustled, and even more ThunderClan cats came streaming out, their eyes gleaming with vengeance. Beenose and Goldendawn hurried their kits into the nursery as Scorchstar went streaking out of his den and ran straight at Sapstar—the two leaders sprang into the air and met each other mid-flight. Several ShadowClan cats emerged from the warrior’s den, blinking confusedly from being suddenly aroused from their slumber. Nojaw dashed over to Newtstripe as a ginger she-cat attempted to pounce on him from behind. His claws dug deep into her fur as he slammed the warrior down on her back. She hissed and clawed wildly at his forelegs while hammering at his belly with her hind feet, but he held on to her tight. Nojaw slashed her once across the face and the chest, blood spraying up as he left long slash marks. The she-cat let out an enraged screech, which died down to a whimper as Nojaw clawed her once more. He then let her up. Eyes brightening with rage, she attempted to charge at him, but suddenly, Newtstripe was there, now awake and alert. His eyes glittered furiously as he gripped the she-cat and sank his fangs into her scruff.

Suddenly, a light brown tabby tom came soaring towards Nojaw. He darted out of the way just in time, slashing his opponent across the shoulder and sending him sprawling. However, the ThunderClan warrior sprang back up very quickly, colliding with Nojaw as the jawless tom attempted to pin him down. The two of them went rolling through the icy mud, sending up a spray of brown slush and blood as they fought. All of Nojaw’s soreness and fatigue had suddenly vanished—fury surged through his veins as the roar of the battle pounded in his ears. He screamed in rage as the tabby tom plunged his fangs into his flesh, feeling the all too familiar frustration of not being able to bite back. Thinking quickly, Nojaw steered them as they rolled towards a large rock. The tabby collided with it head-on and went limp. Nojaw jumped up and lashed again and again at the stunned tom, until he weakly whimpered “Stop it, please.” Nojaw left him lying in the mud as he searched for a new opponent. 

Already, the clearing was completely covered in blood and tufts of fur. This battle had reached the intensity of the last one in almost no time at all. Every cat was fighting ferociously, leaving massive wounds on each other. Even the elders had come out of their den, and were snarling and battering at the invaders.The ThunderClan warriors screamed, bit, and clawed with all their might, wanting vengeance for their slain Clan mate. A long haired tabby she-cat knocked Nojaw out of his stupor as she collided with him. He gripped her as she bit him deeply, enduring the pain and pulling out clumps of her light brown fur until he felt his claws pierce the skin underneath. She clawed him back, until both their paws were wet with blood. Nojaw cried out as one of his claws snagged painfully on a tuft of his opponent’s fur—he fought to pull it free as the she-cat took advantage of this and managed to catch him off guard, biting him on the foreleg all the way down to the bone. Nojaw pulled and tug with all his might, desperately trying to wriggle away from the ThunderClan warrior. He sank the claws of his free paw deep into a wound he’d created on the she-cat’s side, until she let go of his leg. With a final tug, he finally pulled his paw free, but not without pulling his claw partially out of its socket. An agonizing pain flashed through his toe, but he ignored it, using the fury to charge up energy for another attack. The she-cat was about to bite him again when he swiveled around on his forepaws and kicked her hard in the face with his hind legs. She went toppling over into the mud. Nojaw left her laying there, her flank heaving as blood seeped through her thick tabby fur. 

Suddenly, he tripped on something, and his heart stopped as he looked down to see what it was. Blackfang was splayed out on the ground, his eyes staring sightlessly ahead as blood pooled from huge bite marks in his throat and stomach. A strangled yowl rang out—Nojaw whirled his head around to see that Batfang had Sleekwhisker by the throat. Before he could rush to the elderly she-cat’s aid, Batfang clamped his jaws down hard, creating a disgusting cracking sound. Sleekwhisker went limp as a stream of blood trickled from her mouth. Nojaw went racing over to Batfang, claws outstretched, but the ThunderClan tom hurled Sleekwhisker’s body at him. It collided heavily with him, sending him rolling across the bloody, filthy ground. Heaving the slain elder off of him, Nojaw shakily got to his paws. Just like in the last battle, a ringing in his ears deafened him as blood flowed excessively from a wound on his side. 

_Don’t pass out, don’t pass out,_ he thought desperately. 

An agonized caterwaul snapped him awake—he turned to see that it came from Strongfoot, who was struggling underneath Redwing and Amberclaw. Nojaw charged right at them, slashing at Redwing’s heels. The ThunderClan deputy turned around, snarling furiously. Nojaw jumped back as Redwing’s jaws closed a mouse length from where he just was. He darted around and began slashing at the deputy’s dark red fur. Redwing suddenly careened into him, knocking him straight into a puddle and pinning him down. Nojaw hadn’t realized how huge and muscular the other tom was. He clawed at Redwing with all his might, but the senior warrior kept a firm hold on him. He screamed as the red tabby grabbed one of his ears in his jaws, his fangs tearing through the thin flesh. Suddenly, Redwing went flying off of him. Nojaw turned his head to see Strongfoot wrestling the deputy to the ground. Nojaw ran to help his father, but the huge gray tom called out to him, “Nojaw, I can handle him! Watch your back!”

Nojaw turned and skidded out of the way just as Amberclaw lunged at him from behind. The ginger tabby tom whirled around, and both toms prepared to fight, when suddenly a murderous shriek made them both stop and turn their heads. Across the clearing, Nightstrike was engaged in battle with Morningsky’s mate, Pigeonfeather. The gray tabby was heavily bleeding, unable to keep up with Nightstrike’s lightning fast blows, but he still fought, his blue eyes blazing with determination to avenge Morningsky. Suddenly, Pigeonfeather leaped high into the air, attempting to swipe at Nightstrike from above. The black tom jumped up to meet him and gripped his foe in his claws—they both went crashing down into the mud. There was a horrific scream, and then a red mist exploded into the air. Nightstrike stepped back from Pigeonfeather’s twitching body, blood dripping from his fangs. 

“MURDERER!” Pigeonfeather’s son, Foggyheart, went sailing through the air and landed on Nightstrike’s back, savagely ripping into the warrior’s black fur. Nightstrike whipped back and forth, hissing as he tried to dislodge his attacker. 

“Frostfang, help me!” Foggyheart cried as he lost his grip and fell to the ground. Another ThunderClan tom went running over—his coat was so heavily smeared with blood and mud that at first Nojaw couldn’t make out its color. After a few moments, he recognized him as the short furred white tom he’d fought in the previous battle. Frostfang gripped Nightstrike’s shoulder in his claws, snapping at his throat. Nighstrike threw him off, sending the white warrior flying through the air. They were far too close to the nursery—Frostfang went tumbling into the entrance. An enraged howl rang out from inside. A moment later, Frostfang went scurrying backwards outside as Goldendawn advanced on him, her jaws stretched wide and amber eyes narrowed to venomous slits. Frostfang let out a panicked cry as she leaped and slammed him to the ground. The two of them disappeared into a whirl of white and golden fur. Nojaw saw Goldendawn’s fangs flash dangerously close to Frostfang’s throat. The white tom suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, his face twisted in a crazed snarl as he clamped his jaws down on Goldendawn’s throat. 

“NOOO!!” that scream came from Nightstrike as blood spurted from the she-cat’s throat, flying out in such a wide radius that it sprayed Nojaw’s muzzle. Everyone in the clearing stopped—the air itself seemed to hold its breath as Frostfang stared down at Goldendawn’s body, his jaws stained crimson with her blood. 

“Oh StarClan, no…” The tom’s blue eyes stretched wide in horror as he realized what he’d done. “I…I didn’t mean to…”

Frostfang didn’t get to finish his sentence—a split second later, Nightstrike was there, swiftly biting down on his neck. A crazed wrath was in his amber eyes, flickering like some sort of unnatural fire. Nojaw felt himself go cold to his very core, seized with terror as he watched what happened next. Nightstrike became a flash of black, an unearthly scream erupting from him as he moved from one ThunderClan warrior to the next, all of them collapsing as their throats seemed to explode into clouds of blood before they even had time to react. Nojaw’s stomach convulsed, bile threatening to surge up his throat as Nightstrike killed two, three, four cats… 

“Nightstrike! Enough!” That was Scorchstar, limping over to him. “That’s enough…you’ve done it, you’ve avenged Goldendawn.” 

Nightstrike sank down on his haunches, coughing up blood, and then began to sob. 

Scorchstar groaned, suddenly collapsing as blood spread from a deep wound in his scruff. Puddleshine went running to the leader’s side.

“Quietsnow!” he cried. “Get cobwebs—Scorchstar’s losing a life!” 

Everyone had stopped fighting. Their faces and pelts were unrecognizable, completely covered in blood and muck. An eerie silence filled the air, as the cats sat there and watched the medicine cats press a wad of cobwebs to Scorchstar’s throat…even though the dark ginger tom’s eyes had already shut, and his flank stopped heaving as his legs convulsed violently. After what seemed like an eternity, Sapstar was the first to speak up.

“Thunder…Clan…re…treat…” he croaked. Blood dribbled from the leader’s mouth as he fought to stay standing, his brown and golden pelt torn with multiple oozing wounds. Then, he too collapsed. Redwing and Amberclaw ran to their leader’s side, hoisting him up on their backs. Sapstar’s head lolled lifelessly as they made their way to the entrance. The other warriors gathered up their dead. Grunts and moans rang out from the heavily injured cats as they attempted to drag their Clan mates’ bodies out of the camp. Nojaw came over to a pale yellow she-cat as she pulled Frostfang across the ground by his scruff. He pushed at the tom’s flank with his head, attempting to help, but the she-cat let out a wild snarl. Nojaw skittered away, narrowly avoiding a fierce bite to his nose. He staggered around the clearing, seeking out his surviving Clan mates. Relief flooded his chest as he spotted Newtstripe sitting by the warrior’s den, panting heavily as blood dribbled from his tongue. 

“Oh, Nojaw,” he whispered as his friend approached. “What have we done…StarClan won’t forgive us for this battle…”

Nojaw leaned his head against Newtstripe’s, shuddering with exhaustion and pain. At the very least, he was relieved it was finally all over.


	18. Chapter 18

Nojaw and Newtstripe limped around the camp, looking to see who had survived and who had not. Quietsnow and Puddleshine were huddled around the few warriors who were the most heavily injured. Newtstripe suddenly let out a heart shattering cry as he discovered Juniperclaw lying motionless. Nojaw’s heart thundered in his ears as he searched for Strikestone—he found his former mentor near the elder’s den, lying face down in the mud. He reached out and pawed at the brown tabby’s shoulder. He didn’t budge. Nojaw rolled him over—a stream of vomit shot out from his mouth as he saw the enormous chunk of flesh missing from Strikestone’s throat. His once bright amber eyes were now dull and gray. 

A chilling wail came from the direction of the nursery—Beenose was running to Strikestone’s body, her kits following. The white queen flung herself onto her mate, sobbing loudly. Roughkit and Snakekit stood there, trembling as they stared wide-eyed at their slain father. 

“Spottedkit, Coalkit, don’t come out!” Nightstrike’s voice was high-pitched with pain as his sons came hurrying out of the nursery. It was too late—they had found Goldendawn.

“Mama…” Spottedkit whispered, slowly reaching out a paw to poke his mother. “What’s wrong, Mama? You can get up now, the ThunderClan warriors are gone.” 

“I…I think she’s dead, Spottedkit,” Coalkit stammered.

Spottedkit shook his head. “No, she can’t be dead,” he said as fear crept into his little squeaky voice. 

Nightstrike came over to his sons, looking completely vulnerable for once as he pulled them close to him with his tail. 

“She’s gone, kits,” he choked. “I’m sorry…but she’s gone.” 

“NO! It’s not fair! She can’t be gone!” Spottedkit screamed. 

Nojaw looked away from the scene. His heart broke even more as he recognized another body lying in the corner of the clearing. It was Strongfoot’s. The gray tom’s coat was thoroughly soaked with blood, but Nojaw would recognize his father anywhere. He approached the body, finding several deep wounds all over Strongfoot’s pelt. His face was contorted in a snarl, with a hint of furious light still left in his yellow eyes. 

_At least he went down fighting,_ Nojaw thought numbly.

All the slain warrior’s bodies were gathered and laid together in the center of the camp. It was an unbelievable sight—so many warriors, who had all been alive earlier that morning, were now lying there dead. Strongfoot, Blackfang, Goldendawn, Strikestone, Juniperclaw, and Sleekwhisker were barely recognizable, their pelts stained red and shredded to pieces. Nearby, Scorchstar was weakly groaning, his pelt covered in swaths of cobwebs as he recovered from losing a life. A moan came from Birchbark, “Oh StarClan, why…” 

It took all day for the medicine cats to treat everyone’s injuries, and for the bodies to be cleaned and groomed for burial. Hardly anyone spoke. Nojaw was in too much pain to move—his muscles had locked up and refused to work anymore. He fell into a fitful sleep, with Newtstripe curled up next to him. It was nearly nightfall when he awoke. Scorchstar was calling the Clan to a meeting. 

“We have lost many of our warriors today,” he rasped, the wound on his neck still healing. “They all fought fearlessly. Let us pray for them as their spirits travel to StarClan.”

Everyone bowed their heads in a silent prayer. After the long pause, Scorchstar said, “I will now appoint a new deputy in Strongfoot’s place. I say these words before his body, in hope that his spirit will approve of my choice.” 

The sorrowful mood was somewhat lightened as a flicker of anticipation went through the crowd. 

“Nightstrike will be the new deputy of ShadowClan.” 

This announcement was met with a mix of excited cries and confused mumbling. 

“Wait! Nightstrike can’t be deputy,” said Mintwhisker. “He hasn’t had an apprentice yet.” 

“I am aware of that,” said Scorchstar. “However, he fought the hardest today, defeating several of our foes to avenge Goldendawn—and his parents, Blackfang and Sleekwhisker. I can’t think of another cat that deserves this position more. Nightstrike, I hope by offering you the title of deputy, I can alleviate some of the pain you’re going through. Do you think you can do it?”

“Of course I can do it!” Nightstrike excitedly lashed his tail, his sorrowful eyes suddenly bright as stars. “Thank you, Scorchstar!” 

“You can’t just do whatever you want, Scorchstar!” that growl came from Darkbriar. “You have to mind the warrior code…although you seem to have completely forgotten it lately.”

“Don’t doubt my judgment!” Scorchstar snarled at the she-cat. “Nightstrike has plenty of experience, even if he hasn’t yet been a mentor. As soon as Beenose’s kits are old enough, I will have him mentor one of them.”

Gasps came from Roughkit and Snakekit, who were sitting with their mother. They exchanged an excited glance, their little eyes sparkling. Spottedkit and Coalkit were also sitting beside Beenose, their sad faces perking up as they gazed at Nightstrike. 

Darkbriar got up and walked way. Nojaw could just hear her mumbling “Toad-brain,” under her breath. 

“Nightstrike! Nightstrike!” Flamewing began chanting the new deputy’s name, shortly joined by Daycloud, and then most of the warriors-- although a few, including Nojaw and Newtstripe, remained silent.

“This can’t be good,” Newtstripe whispered into his friend’s ear.

Nojaw nodded. His fur prickled with unease at the conceited gleam in Nightstrike’s eyes. Personally, he didn’t think Scorchstar could have made a worse choice. Even if he had been acting out of grief, Nightstrike had slaughtered all those ThunderClan cats as if they were prey…would more battles like the one today going to become common now?

After a while, the crowd dispersed, most of the cats heading off to the warrior’s den to rest for the night. Tomorrow, they would worry about burying the bodies and securing the camp. 

“I’m pretty worried about this, Nojaw,” Newtstripe murmured as he helped Nojaw walk to the warrior’s den. “What was Scorchstar thinking, appointing him as deputy?”

A vicious hiss sounded behind them—both toms turned around, nearly jumping out of their skin when they saw Nightstrike right behind them, lashing his tail. 

“Talking about me behind my back, are we?” His voice dripped with venom. “Well I’m deputy now, and I say that’s not allowed. You better think twice about what you say in the future because when I become leader, I’ll get decide whether you can stay in this Clan or not.” 

“Y-yes, Nightstrike, sorry.” Newtstripe dipped his head, and then hurried away with Nojaw towards the warrior’s den. 

_StarClan help us,_ Nojaw pleaded silently.


	19. Chapter 19

“Wow…I am so bored.” Newtstripe studied a grasshopper that was leaping along the ground. A few moons had passed, and it was new-leaf now. Although Nojaw and Newtstripe were grateful for the warm weather and return of prey after such a harsh winter, things hadn’t been so great for them since Nightstrike had been appointed deputy. He rarely chose them to go out on patrols, and was often watching them suspiciously from not too far away. It seemed as though he wanted to keep them confined in the camp. 

But things hadn’t been all bad. There had been no more battles since the horrible one the past leaf-bare, although ThunderClan was still quite hostile and marked their border several times a day. All the kits were apprentices now; Nightstrike had been assigned to mentor Snakepaw. Daycloud and Robinclaw had recently had a single kit—a little she-cat named Waspkit, and Paleheart was expecting Mintwhisker’s kits any day now. 

“Why don’t we go down to the lake, Nojaw?” Newtstripe suggested. “It’s such a beautiful morning. I’d like to get out.” 

Nojaw got up and stretched, agreeing with his friend. It had felt like ages since he’d been out of the camp. As they headed to the entrance, however, Flamewing met them there.

“Where are you two going?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

“We’re just going down to the lake,” said Newtstripe with an irritated note in his voice. “We don’t want to sit in the camp all day.” 

“I’ll ask Nightstrike if you can go,” said Flamewing. “You know that no one’s allowed to leave the camp without his permission.” 

“That should be up to Scorchstar,” Newtstripe retorted, a growl rising in his chest. But both he and Nojaw knew that their leader wouldn’t side with them—ever since he’d appointed Nightstrike as deputy, he’d sat back and let him do whatever he wanted. 

Before Flamewing could reply, Quietsnow came hurrying across the clearing with a bundle of herbs in her jaws. She disappeared into the nursery, where Mintwhisker was sitting outside looking worried. Newstripe and Nojaw hurried over.

“Is something wrong with Paleheart!?” Newtstripe cried.

“She’s kitting,” said Mintwhisker. 

A few moments later, Quietsnow stuck her head out of the nursery. 

“Everything seems to be going normally, but Paleheart says she feels dizzy and hot,” said Quietsnow. “I need someone to go down to the lake to fetch some water soaked moss.” 

“Nojaw and I will go,” Newtstripe volunteered. They turned towards the entrance, but were suddenly met by Nightstrike.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the deputy hissed. 

“Paleheart is kitting—Quietsnow needs someone to get her some water from the lake,” said Newtstripe. 

For a moment, Nightstrike hesitated, but then said, “Alright, but make it quick.” 

Both toms heaved a sigh of relief as they raced out of the thorn tunnel and into the woods, welcoming the cool breeze and fresh scent of morning dew. They quickly found some moss, and headed towards the lake shore. 

“Hey, wait a minute…” Newtstripe’s nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. “Nojaw…do you smell that?”

Nojaw opened his mouth, drinking in the nearby scents. His fur bristled in alarm as he picked up a familiar scent—it was that of the rogues they had fought last leaf-fall. It was stale, but they’d definitely been there not too long ago. 

“We’ll have to report this,” said Newtstripe with a hiss. “I thought we’d gotten rid of those fox hearted pests!” 

After soaking the moss in the lake water, they hurried back to camp. Newtstripe carried a wad in his jaws while Nojaw hobbled along with another wad skewered on his claws. When they returned, Mintwhisker was pacing nervously outside the nursery. 

“How is she doing?” Newtstripe asked. 

“I don’t know—Quietsnow won’t let me in!” Mintwhisker exclaimed. 

At the mention of her name, the medicine cat stuck her head out. 

“She’s okay, Mintwhisker—I just need that moss so I can keep her cool,” she said. The white she-cat took the moss and carried it back into the den. 

“Are you sure you don’t need me to get Puddleshine to help?” Mintwhisker called into the nursery. 

“No!” Quietsnow’s voice was thick with annoyance. “Don’t bother him!” 

Puddleshine had recently retired to the elder’s den, along with Birchbark and Yarrowleaf. Beenose had joined them after Spottedpaw and Coalpaw had become apprentices; she’d fostered them after Goldendawn’s death. 

“I wish my kits’ father had been as worried for me during my kitting as you are for Paleheart,” said Darkbriar said to Mintwhisker. She was also staying near the nursery as her daughter gave birth. With a scowl, Darkbriar added, “Tawnyclaw only came to see the kits once, and it was several days after they’d been born.” 

A wail of pain came from inside, making Mintwhisker gasp. But then, a tiny but strong mewling sound followed—a kit had been born! Several moments later, it was joined by a second tiny, crying voice. 

“You did it, Paleheart!” Quietsnow exclaimed from inside. She came out of the nursery, her face glowing with good news. 

“Congratulations, Mintwhisker. You have a son and a daughter.” 

The gray tom hurried inside to see them. Not long after, he re-emerged, purring loudly.

“Come see them, everyone,” he said. 

Nojaw squeezed into the nursery with Newtstripe and Darkbriar, feeling a pang of nostalgia as the warm, gentle scent of milk wafted over his tongue. Two tiny fuzzy bundles were greedily suckling at Paleheart’s belly—one was pale brown like her, and the other was light gray like Mintwhisker.

“I’m so glad they’re healthy,” Newtstripe sighed with relief. 

Paleheart raised her head sleepily, looking at her new babies with an adoring gaze. 

“Aren’t they perfect?” she whispered. 

“Have you decided on names yet?” asked Darkbriar.

Paleheart nodded. “Mintwhisker suggested Jasminekit for the gray one, the she-cat…I like it. I think I’ll call the brown one—the tom, Tankit.” 

“Those are beautiful names,” Newtheart agreed. 

“They’re truly the blessing that ShadowClan needs,” Daycloud purred, having been watching from her nest. She looked down at a tiny bundle curled up in the crook of her body.   
“And you are too,” she said, giving her kit a lick on the head. Waspkit, who was just a half moon old, had golden fur that was crisscrossed with thick black tabby stripes. The kit raised her head, revealing brilliant amber eyes as she blinked and looked around. 

“Hey, Newtstripe," said Mintwhisker. “I’m going to be staying with Paleheart and the kits for a while. Would you mind taking Spottedpaw out for me? Just show him some basic battle moves.” 

“I’d love to!” Newtstripe cried excitedly. “Come on, Nojaw, you can help.” 

The two of them headed out of the nursery and over to the apprentice’s den, where Spottedpaw was talking with the other apprentices as they waited for their mentors to take them out for training. 

“Hey, Spottedpaw,” Newtstripe called to him. “Mintwhisker’s going to be staying with Paleheart all day since their kits were just born. He asked me to mentor you today, is that alright?”

“Oh, sure!” The mottled golden tom jumped to his paws. “So where are we going?”

“Nowhere,” came a snarl from behind. Nojaw and Newtstripe turned around to see Nightstrike, who was slowly lashing his tail.

“What’s this about you taking Spottedpaw out?” the black tom growled.

“Mintwhisker asked me to train him today, since he’s with Paleheart and the kits,” said Newtstripe, returning the deputy’s glare. “If you don’t believe me, go ask him.” 

“Well, I don’t approve of that,” said Nightstrike. “You’re not fit to be a mentor—you’re barely a warrior.”

Newtstripe’s fur bristled. “I’m only training Spottedpaw for today!”

“You’re not training him at all,” Nightstrike spat. “I’m his father, and the deputy. I get to decide what’s best for him.” 

“Father, it’s okay, I like Newtstripe,” Spottedpaw spoke up. “He can train me for one day.”

“Quiet!” Nightstrike snapped at his son. He turned to Flamewing, who was coming over to greet her apprentice, Roughpaw. 

“Would you mind asking Fireberry to take Spottedpaw out?” he asked her. “Mintwhisker’s busy with his new kits.” 

“That’s not fair!” Newtstripe hissed. 

“What’s going on here!?” Scorchstar came storming over, an annoyed growl rising in his chest. “Why are you all squabbling like kits?” 

“Mintwhisker asked me to take Spottedpaw out for training today, but Nightstrike won’t let me,” said Newtstripe, his voice high-pitched with exasperation. “He hasn’t been letting me and Nojaw go on patrols, either, all because he doesn’t like us.” 

“So you’re going to yowl about it instead of talking things out?” Scorchstar’s whiskers twitched contemptuously.

Newtstripe took a deep breath. In a calmer voice, he said, “I have tried to talk to Nightstrike about this, but he won’t listen.” 

“Scorchstar, I just don’t think Newtstripe has the experience to be handling apprentices yet,” said Nightstrike. “I think Spottedpaw would be better off with an older warrior, so I suggested that Flamewing ask Fireberry to take him out.”

The fake politeness in the deputy’s voice made Nojaw want to gag. Unfortunately, it seemed to work, as Scorchstar nodded and said, “Makes sense to me.” 

“You’re only taking Nightstrike’s side because Fireberry is your mate!” Newtstripe yowled, lashing his tail. 

“Excuse me?” Scorchstar walked right over to Newtstripe, bristling and sticking his face right in the warrior’s. Nojaw held his breath, almost certain that Scorchstar was about to attack.

“Do not talk to me like that. I am your leader!” Scorchstar spat. “One more word out of your mouth, and I will make sure you do not set a paw out of this camp for an entire moon. Do you understand?”

Newtstripe hung his head, glaring down at the grass. “Yes, Scorchstar,” he sighed. 

Flamewing brought over Fireberry, and then the mentors began to lead their apprentices out of the camp. All of them looked rather shaken up over the argument, except for Snakepaw, who had an amused gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah, Nightstrike, you told ‘em off!” the young tom said, bouncing alongside his mentor.

Newtstripe shot a reproachful glance at the deputy as he led the way out.

“That piece of fox dung!” he snarled, clawing at the ground. “He’s out to make us miserable. And I can’t believe Scorchstar took his side.” 

Nojaw nodded in agreement, giving Newtstripe a comforting lick on the shoulder. The tabby let out a heavy sigh. “I guess we should still tell Scorchstar about the rogues we scented, though…if he’ll even take us seriously.” 

Suddenly, Newtstripe flicked his ears, as if he had gotten an idea. He whispered to Nojaw, “Hey, why don’t we sneak out tonight, when it’s dark?” 

Nojaw’s yellow eyes lit up as he furiously nodded. 

 

That night, Nojaw and Newtstripe lay in the warrior’s den, waiting for everyone else to fall asleep. When the last one started to snore, they crept outside, padding softly towards a narrow gap in the thorns that surrounded the edge of the camp and slithered though it. 

“Sweet freedom!” Newtstripe whispered. Their eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness as they ran through the forest. The edges of the pine trees glowed silvery-green in the moonlight, their fresh scent giving Nojaw a burst of energy as he bounded along beside Newtstripe. He breathed in all the forest scents he’d been missing—the mouth-watering smell of prey, the muddy odor of the swamps, and occasionally, the aroma of a blooming flower. Nojaw and Newtstripe headed towards the lake shore, where they found the nearly full moon brightly illuminating the lake. Newtstripe followed a cricket that was hopping along the shore, swatting at it in an almost kit-like manner. Nojaw lowered his muzzle to the edge of the lake for a drink. The moonlight revealed a clear reflection of him—although Nojaw’s face was still hideous, it no longer made him recoil. The thick, fleshy scars that crisscrossed his face filled him with pride—they were a reminder of all the hardships he’d overcome to be what he was now. Some fur had grown over the exposed flesh and muscle where his jaw used to be, and his pelt, although heavily scarred, was still a beautiful snowy white, just like his mother’s. 

Newtstripe went bouncing past Nojaw, still chasing the cricket. Nojaw dipped a paw into the water and then playfully splashed water towards his friend. Newtstripe cried out in surprise. Glaring at Nojaw, he lashed out at the water and splashed him back. Soon the toms were sending up a fierce spray of water and mud at each other. Eventually, Newtstripe ended it by jumping at Nojaw, pinning him down in the sand with sheathed claws. 

Suddenly, the two of them froze as they heard the sound of a twig snapping in the woods. Swiveling his ears, Nojaw picked up the sound of a cat walking nearby. 

“We better hide!” Newtstripe hissed. They spotted a thick pine tree nearby, downwind from the direction the unknown cat was heading. They slipped under the bottom branches, crouching and peering through the needles. Nojaw’s fur spiked along his spine as he drank in the air and recognized the scent of the approaching cat. 

“Oh fox dung, it’s Nightstrike!” Newtstripe whispered, having also detected the scent. “He must have seen us sneak out!” 

The two young toms huddled close together, lying flat on the ground and barely daring to even breathe. Nojaw could just see the outline of the ShadowClan deputy walking towards their tree, his black fur blending in almost seamlessly with the night. Nojaw felt Newtstripe's fur bristle as Nightstrike came right up to their hiding place….but then he walked right past the tree. His footsteps continued on ahead, further into the woods. 

“Huh….what’s he doing?” Newtstripe whispered. 

Nojaw looked in the direction Nightstrike had gone, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“I agree...something’s up. We should follow him,” said Newtstripe.

They followed Nightstrike at a careful distance, walking as slowly and quietly as they could. Nightstrike led them a good distance, towards the northern end of the territory. Nojaw was startled when he walked past the border, heading right towards the Twolegplace. The pine trees thinned out, giving way to open stretches of grass and Twoleg paths. 

“What in StarClan’s name is Nightstrike doing here?” Newtstripe hissed under his breath.

Nightstrike approached a Thunderpath and looked both ways for approaching monsters. Twoleg lights hung from huge sticks the height of trees, illuminating the black stone in their strange orange glow. Nightstrike walked to the Thunderpath and suddenly, disappeared into an odd, perfectly circular hole. Nojaw and Newtstripe exchanged a confused glance, and then carefully crept towards the Thunderpath…but suddenly, they were aware of huge paws pounding towards them, and a loud, shrill bark rang out. They turned their heads to see a large dog bounding over, its jaws spread wide. The cats took off in the other direction, fleeing back towards the pine forest as the dog gave chase. Nojaw’s heart pounded in his ears as he could smell the dog’s putrid breath a few fox lengths away…terror flashed through him as he suddenly remembered the agony of a whole pack tearing biting and chewing on him, ripping his jaw clean off…

Nojaw and Newtstripe shot up a large cedar tree amongst the pines. The dog skidded to a halt just moments after they scrambled up the trunk. The huge creature stood up on its hind legs, snapping its jaws wildly with its pointy ears plastered flat to its head. Its teeth closed shut just a mouse length from the end of Newtstripe’s tail. Nojaw’s terror was suddenly replaced by rage. He ran out to the end of the branch, hissing wildly at the dog. The dog froze, its eyes widening at the sight of Nojaw’s face. With a whimper, it turned and ran the direction it had come. In the distance, Nojaw saw a small, bright light bobbing around, and could hear a Twoleg calling for the dog. 

“That…was…close…” Newtstripe panted. 

Nojaw let out a disgusted snarl. _I hate dogs,_ was what he wished he could say out loud. 

“What was Nightstrike doing in the Twolegplace, anyways?” said Newtstripe. “Do you think Scorchstar sent him on some sort of mission?”

Nojaw looked up at his friend and shrugged. 

“Well anyways, it’s not safe to go out there,” said Newtstripe, angling his ears towards the Twolegplace. They could still hear barking, along with angry yelling from a Twoleg. “Let’s head back to camp before Nightstrike gets back.” 

Nojaw’s fur flattened as he followed Newtstripe down the trunk and back into the woods. He suddenly remembered the trace of rogues they’d scented that morning. Was Nightstrike trying to find them, or was he up to his own mission? Nojaw’s gut clenched nervously—either way, he had a bad feeling about all this.


	20. Chapter 20

Nojaw drank in the moist, cool air, wondering what sort of prey could be hiding. He picked up the scent of a pigeon nearby. Rounding a clump of ferns, he saw the gray bird drinking from a puddle. Nojaw moved very slowly—it had rained the night before, and the ground was wet and squishy. He had to be careful as not make any sound. He was about two tail lengths away from the pigeon when it turned around and saw him. The bird fluttered into the air, but Nojaw was faster. He sprang high above the ground, trapping the pigeon between his claws and slamming it down on the ground. The bird went limp as the impact broke its neck. 

“Wow, that was so cool, Nojaw!” cried Spottedpaw. 

Nojaw was out on a patrol with Newtstripe, Mintwhisker, Spottedpaw, Robinclaw, and Coalpaw—Scorchstar had ordered several groups to go out at once, as Nightstrike had reported scents of ThunderClan in their territory. So far, they’d seen no sign of any ThunderClan warriors, but there was plenty of prey about. Nojaw was delighted to be able to hunt for the first time in forever.

Newtstripe, who was also on the patrol, emerged from a clump of ferns with a crow clutched in his jaws. 

“Well, we’ve certainly found a lot of prey, but no ThunderClan warriors.” Mintwhisker frowned suspiciously. 

“Should we head back to camp?” Robinclaw suggested. “Maybe the other patrols have found scent marks.” 

They turned back, carrying their prey with them. As they approached the thorn tunnel, a panicked cry made their fur stand up.

“Paleheart!” Mintwhisker went running into the camp, the other following close behind. Paleheart was pacing around the camp, her eyes wide with panic.

“My kits are gone!” she cried. “They were sleeping, so I went out of the camp to make dirt…when I came back, they weren’t there! I can’t find them anywhere!” 

“What about Waspkit?” said Robinclaw anxiously.

“She’s fine,” said Daycloud, who was emerging from the warrior’s den. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Paleheart, they’re not in there either. This is my fault—I was asleep and didn’t see where they’ve gone.” 

“Oh StarClan…something must have taken them!” Paleheart was now hysterical. “They’re only a few days old—they couldn’t have wandered off on their own!”

Spottedpaw gasped. “Do you think the ThunderClan warriors took them?” 

Daycloud shook her head. “I would have scented those mouse-breathed cats if they’d come anywhere near the camp.” 

“Do you think a fox ate them?” Coalpaw suggested.

Paleheart let out a wail. Robinclaw shot his apprentice a glare as Mintwhisker pressed comfortingly against his mate. 

Just then, Nightstrike came into the camp with the patrol he’d been leading. 

“What’s this ruckus about!?” he snapped. 

“Paleheart’s kits are missing!” Newtstripe exclaimed. “We can’t find them anywhere!” 

Nightstrike jerked his head back towards his patrol. “Everyone, start searching, now! I want every nest unturned, every bush searched under! Flamewing, take a patrol out to search the territory—and find Scorchstar’s patrol!” 

The ShadowClan cats tore up the whole camp, looking under every bramble and plant. They kept their ears wide open, hoping to hear the tiny mewls of the kits somewhere. Sniffing around the nursery yielded no suspicious scents. The warriors spread out far throughout the territory, searching for any trace of Paleheart’s kits. After what seemed like forever, they met in a clearing, as dark clouds gathered in the sky and a light rain began to fall. 

“How could they just disappear?” Paleheart sobbed, crouching to the ground in despair. 

“Yeah, if something or someone took the kits, shouldn’t they have left a scent trail?” said Spottedpaw, tilting his head in confusion.

“You would think so.” Mintwhisker’s voice was heavy with worry as he soothingly licked Paleheart’s head. “But we can’t give up the search—they have to be around here somewhere.” 

Robinclaw looked up at the sky with a frown. “It looks like it’s going to start pouring soon,” he said.

Flamewing flicked her ears to the north. “Well, Nightstrike went that way, maybe he’s found them by now.” 

They traveled in that direction, coming across Fireberry and Scorchstar, who were sniffing around.

“Please tell me you’ve found them,” Paleheart moaned. 

Fireberry shook her head. “I’m sorry, Paleheart.”

“Where’s Nightstrike?” said Flamewing. “I thought he was with you.”

“He went off on his own,” Fireberry replied. She looked up at the sky as thunder rumbled in the distance. “It’s about to storm—he’s probably back at the camp right now.” 

Scorchstar nodded. “We should head back that way. We won’t be able to find the kits in this weather.”

“Oh my babies…where are you?” Paleheart whimpered. The distraught queen leaned against Mintwhisker as the cats headed back towards camp. However, Nojaw and Newtstripe hung back.

“Aren’t you coming?” Flamewing snapped over her shoulder.

“I want to look a little more,” said Newtstripe.

Flamewing snorted. “Suit yourselves, stupid toms. You won’t be able to see or scent anything in the heavy rain.”

Newtstripe whispered to Nojaw as the others left.

“I have a bad feeling about this. Something really fishy is going on…where is Nightstrike?”

Nojaw nodded. Something was very off indeed. He lowered his muzzle to the grass and breathed deeply, trying once more to catch any scent of the kits. The smells of the ground were becoming faint as the rain grew heavier. However, Nojaw’s exposed scent glands gave him a far keener sense of smell than his Clan mates. He let out a gasp as he caught a faint trace of a scent under the rain and mud, unsheathing his claws as he recognized it. 

“What is it? Is it Nightstrike!?” Newtstripe exclaimed.

Nojaw shook his head, narrowing his eyes and lashing his tail.

“Is it…the rogues?” Newtstripe guessed again.

Nojaw nodded. Newtstripe bounded alongside him as he tracked the scent, following it towards the northern border, near Twolegplace. The rain was coming down in sheets by the time they’d emerged the forest, washing away the last traces of the trail, but Nojaw had a feeling where it led to. They made their way to the Thunderpath, where water was rushing down into the wide, dark hole. Nojaw jumped right in, yowling in surprise when he realized it was quite a lengthy drop. He landed in water, creating a loud splash. A rapidly moving stream was carrying him through a snaking tunnel. Nojaw cried out in pain as he was swept around a corner and smashed his face on a part of the stone wall that jutted out. Finally, the stream ended, flowing into a smaller whole up ahead. Nojaw dug his claws into the stone, managing to slow himself down and get to his paws. Suddenly, something crashed into him, knocking him over. Hissing, Nojaw struggled to his feet again, shaking water from his white coat.

“Next time, tell me before you’re going to do something that stupid,” Newtstripe’s amber eyes flashed in the darkness as he glared at Nojaw.

They leaped over the hole onto a raised stone platform, and walked through another passageway. Nojaw was suddenly overwhelmed to see several openings up ahead, leading in multiple directions. Suddenly, Newtstripe let out an angry hiss. 

“Nojaw, I smell Nightstrike!” he exclaimed. 

Nojaw took a gulp of air—sure enough, the ShadowClan deputy had been there very recently.

“I knew it! I knew he had something to do with this!” Newtstripe lashed his tail. “If he took my sister’s kits, then I’ll shred him!” 

Nojaw nodded, although he was confused. He trusted Nightstrike as much as a fox, but what reason would he have to take Paleheart’s kits? Maybe he’d also caught the scent of the rogues and was following them as well? A great feeling of unease made Nojaw’s fur stand up as he and Newtstripe followed Nightstrike’s scent down one of the tunnels, towards a glowing circle of light. A small stream of water was flowing down the hole from up above and trickling along the tunnel—it seemed the rain was letting up somewhat. Nojaw looked up as they reached the end of the tunnel, raindrops plunking on his face as he looked up and saw the gray sky. Gathering up strength in his haunches, he launched himself upwards and scrambled over the edge of the hole. A few moments later, he heard a grunt from Newtstripe and saw him hanging from the edge. Hooking his paw with his friend’s, he helped him pull himself out. The tabby panted, saying, “I must be eating too many frogs, I’m getting out of shape.” 

Nojaw looked around—they were in a narrow passageway between a tall fence made of a web of shiny metal, and the wall of a large Twoleg structure. Just ahead was a dead end, partially obscured by a huge pile of rubble. Suddenly, a faint mewling sound came to Nojaw’s ears. 

“The kits!” Newtstripe gasped. Nojaw swiveled his ears, following the source of the sound, until he finally spotted them. The two tiny cats were huddled together in a wooden square object that was open at one end, shivering and mewling loudly for their mother. 

“Don’t worry, little ones,” Newtstripe crooned, coming over to them. “It’s okay--we’re here to take you home.” 

Suddenly, a blur of white came crashing down onto Newtstripe. They had completely failed to see the cat sitting on top of the rubbish pile. She pinned Newtstripe on his back, hissing viciously. Her coat was pure white, save for a black splotch on her forehead. Nojaw recognized her as having been one of Rambo’s rogues.

“What are you doing with the kits!?” Newtstripe demanded. “How did you get them?” 

“Quiet!” the she-cat raked her claws across his face. “George!” she cried. “We have company!” 

Nojaw was about to knock her off of Newtstripe when suddenly, more rogues came running into the space, led by a golden tabby tom. Nojaw also recognized him from the battle last leaf-fall, and the nearly hairless tom, Tufty. He was startled to see him alive—his skin was covered in scabbed over slash marks that Nojaw had left. The old cat snarled wildly, his eyes bulging out as he recognized Nojaw. 

“Oh great, they found us.” The golden tabby, who Nojaw guessed was George, lashed his tail as the rogues encircled him and Newtstripe.

“What do you want with the kits!?” Newtstripe cried, still under the she-cat’s paws. 

“We stole them to use as negotiation,” she hissed. “We’ll return them if your Clan lets us hunt on your territory.”

“You crow-food eaters!” Newtstripe clawed at his captor’s legs. “They’re newborns! They have nothing to do with all this!” 

“Ha, well we did,” said George with dry amusement in his voice. “It was so easy—all we had to do was roll in that disgusting swamp in your territory to disguise our scent. Their mother left those poor kits all alone—we just walked right in the den and took them. It seems ShadowClan isn’t as clever as they claim to be.” 

“How did you know how to find our camp!?” Newtstripe spat. 

“Because I told them.”

Another cat was approaching, coming up behind the rogues. It was Nightstrike.


	21. Chapter 21

“You traitor!” Newtstripe yowled. “I _knew_ you had something to do with this!”

“I guess you’re not so stupid after all,” Nightstrike spat as he parted his way through the crowd. Nojaw lunged at the black tom, his claws outstretched, only to be pinned down by two other rogues. 

“Why are you doing this!?” Newtstripe screeched.

“Why? Because I want to punish Scorchstar.” Nightstrike lashed his tail. “He led our Clan into a pointless battle and got my mate and my parents killed. I want him to feel the same agony in return.”

The black tom paused, his eyes gleaming eerily.

“You see, I’m going to take one of the rogues back to camp and pretend like I’ve captured him. He’ll tell everyone that these cats here have the kits, and they can have them back if they allow the rogues to hunt on ShadowClan’s territory. I’ll encourage Scorchstar to go through with the deal, telling them we can come up with a plan to kill them all. But you see, when the rogues bring the kits back, they’re going to launch an attack. They will avenge their leader and my family at the same time.”

“You’ve gone insane!” Newtstripe cried. “Scorchstar should have never made you deputy!”

“No, he shouldn’t have,” Nightstrike agreed. “But by doing so, he’s allowed me to plan my revenge.” 

“You piece of fox dung!” Newtstripe howled. “You fought in that battle willingly! Don’t act like you disagreed with it!” 

“I enjoyed it until my loved ones died,” Nightstrike snarled. “You wouldn’t know how I feel—you’ve never lost anyone before. Your family doesn’t even like you—you have no one but that jawless freak.”

Nojaw wriggled furiously under the two toms restraining him, trying to get at Nightstrike, but both of them had his forepaws firmly pinned down. 

“Alright, time to take my “captive” back to the camp,” said Nightstrike. With a wave of his tail, he motioned for Tufty to come over. “It’s too bad you two won’t get to see my genius plan come to life, as the rogues are going to kill you. Bye now.” 

In the blink of an eye, Nightstrike and Tufty disappeared down the hole into the tunnels. 

“You heard him. Kill them!” yowled George. 

Rage coursed through Nojaw—with a mighty heave, he flung off the two cats holding him down, and struck out at the one pinning Newtstripe. She reared back and let go. Newtstripe jumped to his paws and slashed her across the stomach, sending her sprawling. Suddenly, the circle of rogues tightened around Nojaw and Newtstripe—everywhere they turned, there were multiple hissing, spitting cats. Above the hostile noises, they could still hear the kits crying helplessly. As a ginger tom lunged at him, Nojaw sliced him across the face. Two more cats grabbed him from either side; he swiftly spun around, dislodging them and sending them flying into their companions. Newtstripe dodged a bite from the black and white she-cat, then spun around and kicked her in the face with his hind paws. Suddenly, George had his claws and teeth in Nojaw, who raked his claws through the other tom’s golden tabby fur. He was surprisingly strong and muscular for a rogue. Nojaw found he was hardly able to move in his grasp, but he used his claws to his advantage, digging them deep into George’s pelt until his white paws were soaked with blood.

“Diamond, I need help!” George cried. The she-cat was suddenly there, grabbing Nojaw by the scruff and attempting to pull him off. Newtstripe came sailing out of nowhere, crashing down on Diamond and sending her rolling. A few of the rogues had turned and fled, bleeding from multiple wounds. 

“Get back here, cowards!” George snarled. 

“George, they’re too strong!” a small black cat cried as Nojaw cornered him against the fence. 

“No they’re not! We outnumber them!” George cried. “Fight like a real cat, Spook!”

Spook became a flash of black as he leaped into the air, soaring over Nojaw. The latter felt a terrible pain his tail as Spook sank his fangs into it. He whirled around, managing to scour his claws across the smaller tom’s shoulder. Newtstripe suddenly appeared, grabbing Spook by the scruff, and flung the black cat into the rubble heap. Spook yelped as the pile shook, and a cluster of shiny cylindrical objects rained down on him. Another rogue fled as Newtstripe tore a chunk out of his ear. Several others followed. Now the only rogues left were George, Diamond, Spook, and a mottled brown tom. Spook shakily emerged from the pile of waste as Newtstripe faced off with George and the fourth rogue. Newtstripe flung himself at Diamond, only to suddenly slip on a pool of blood. He fell painfully on his side against the hard ground. Diamond was on top of him in an instant, sneering in his face. 

“For you, Rambo!” she yowled as she lowered her fangs to Nojaw’s throat. 

A jolt of rage and fear surged through Nojaw, giving him the strength to kick Diamond in the stomach with his hind legs. She went flying, a sharp, pointy metal object sinking into her shoulder as she landed in the rubble heap.

“Diamond!” George gasped. He tore away from Newtstripe and ran to his friend’s side. “Diamond…don’t move, I’ll help you…”

With George distracted, and the others lying stunned, Nojaw and Newtstripe headed for the kits. Newstripe grabbed Jasminekit’s scruff in his jaws, while Nojaw used his claws to lift Tankit by his scruff. Newtstripe hurried over to the hole and jumped down into the tunnel. Nojaw carefully positioned Tankit over the edge, doing his best to hold the tiny tom still as he wriggled and squeaked in terror. Newtstripe placed Jasminekit on the floor of the tunnel, and then lifted his head as Nojaw dropped Tankit into the hole. Newtstripe deftly caught the little brown tom by the scruff, and then Nojaw hopped down and scooped Jasminekit up with his claws. They hurried along back the way they came, although Nojaw was slowed as he hobbled on three legs, struggling to keep Jasminekit still. He was used to walking with prey skewered on his claws, but they were always dead and still. Jasminekit wriggled around, flailing at the air with her tiny paws as she mewled. Nojaw’s heart sank—she and Tankit hadn’t even opened their eyes yet. They had to get them back to Paleheart as soon as they could. 

“Spook, Rocky, after them!” George’s voice rang out above the surface. 

Spook and the mottled brown tom dropped down into the tunnel, running straight at Nojaw and Newtstripe. The latter crouched protectively over the kits as Nojaw ran at the rogues. The brown one, Rocky, swiftly swerved away from his claws and sank his teeth into Nojaw’s hind leg. He let out a scream as Nojaw’s claws came down across his flank, spraying blood into the dark, damp air. Nojaw kicked him right where his wounds were, causing him to fall over and knock Spook down with him. As they lay there dazed, Nojaw ran and grabbed Jasminekit, hurrying after Newtstripe as fast as he could, following Nightstrike’s scent trail. He dropped the struggling kit a few times, having to pick her back up again. Her scruff was bleeding slightly where his claws had pierced the skin.

“Fox dung!” Newtstripe hissed as they heard Spook and Rocky approaching them again. “We’re never going to get out of here at this rate!”

Nojaw looked around, thinking quickly. He could hear rushing water through one of the tunnels up ahead. Suddenly getting an idea, he motioned for Newtstripe to hide with the kits in one tunnel while he went down the other. This one suddenly ended in a ledge—Nojaw peered down to see a deep, wide stream of grayish-brown water rushing along below. He turned around and waited at the entrance to the tunnel, until he saw Spook and Rocky come into sight. He let out a loud yowl, making the rogues turn their heads and run into the tunnel after them. He slowed down as he got to the end, letting them catch up. In one swift move, he kicked Spook in the side and sent the black cat flying over the ledge and into the putrid smelling water below. Spook’s head emerged—his jaws were parted in a cry for help which was drowned out by roar of the water. The rogue paddled helplessly as he was swept out of sight. 

Suddenly, Rocky came flying at Nojaw, catching him off guard. The two of them tumbled dangerously close to the edge of the drop off as they wrestled. Nojaw pushed at Rocky’s stomach with his hind feet, trying to launch the rogue off of him and into the water. He clawed desperately at his opponent’s shoulders, but the other tom refused to let go. Nojaw made himself go limp, as if exhausted. Just as Rocky loosened his grip, he jolted upright. Startled, Rocky scrabbled backwards, right towards the edge. Nojaw lunged forward and slammed into the rogue with his head, sending him toppling into the river. However, Rocky managed to grab his ear in his fangs, pulling him downwards with him. Nojaw let out a cry as he went plummeting straight towards the foaming water…and suddenly, he felt paws wrap around his hind legs, stopping his fall.

“Nojaw! I got you!” Newtstripe yelled. 

Nojaw dug his claws into the straight vertical stone of the drop, desperately scrabbling upwards as Newtstripe pulled him up onto the ledge. As Nojaw sat up and panted with relief, he could hear a distant cry from Rocky as he was swept away. 

“Good thing you have me around to save you when you do stunts like that,” Newtstripe twitched his tail. “We gotta get out of here now.” 

They went back to where Newtstripe had left the kits in a nearby tunnel. Their helpless cries echoed loudly against the stone walls. 

“It’s okay, little ones,” said Newtstripe as he soothingly licked them. “We’re going home. You’ll be back with your mother soon.”

They soon picked up Nightstrike’s scent again, using the trail to navigate through the seemingly endless labyrinth of tunnels. Nojaw let out a heavy sigh of relief as they saw the glow of an opening up ahead—his paw ached from the strain of keeping Jasminekit suspended from his claws. They emerged out into an open field, where the tunnel stuck out from the side of a hill. In the near distance, they could see the edge of the pine forest where ShadowClan’s territory lay. 

“Finally…we’re going to make it back!” Newtstripe cried.

Suddenly, Nojaw bristled as he sensed two other cats approaching. Hissing, he put Jasminekit down and stood protectively over her as they came around a tree…

“MY KITS!!!” 

It was Paleheart and Mintwhisker. They went rushing towards their babies, their eyes wide with relief. Newtstripe and Nojaw gently pushed the kits towards Paleheart, who wrapped her tail around them and licked them furiously as they nuzzled into her side. 

“Where did you find them!?” Mintwhisker exclaimed.

Newtstripe hastily explained what had happened. 

“What?” Mintwhisker jumped back as if he’d been stung by a bee. “Nightstrike was behind this? No, he couldn’t have been…”

“It’s true, we saw it,” Newtstripe insisted. “We couldn’t believe it either—he left us to be killed by the rogues! But we’re tougher than Nightstrike thinks—we fought them off!”

“I…see…” Mintwhisker stammered. “Paleheart and I left the camp as soon as the rain stopped to look for our kits again…we picked up Nightstrike’s scent and followed it here…but instead we found you.”

“Nightstrike’s headed for the camp with a rogue he’s pretended to capture,” said Newtstripe. “Then they’ll use the kits as a bargaining chip…except they don’t have them anymore.” 

“Whatever the case, we best get back to camp immediately,” said Mintwhisker.

“Oh Newtstripe, Nojaw, thank you so much,” said Paleheart thickly, purring as she licked the grime and dirty water from her kits’ pelts. 

Mintwhisker carried Tankit as Paleheart carried Jasminekit—Nojaw was grateful they had their jaws to pick them up. They quickly made their way back to the forest. As they were halfway to the camp, Nojaw stopped dead in his tracks as he picked up sounds of screeching and yowling not too far ahead—the sounds of battle.

Newtstripe gasped. “The rogues must have gone ahead and launched their attack!” 

They hurried to camp, picking up speed as the furious cries grew louder. Nojaw’s blood ran cold as a high-pitched scream of pain rang out, and the air became thick with the scent of blood. Paleheart huddled behind a boulder with her kits as the others raced into the camp. To their horror, they found it swarming with rogues. Nojaw recognized George, Diamond, and Tufty. Accompanying them were even more cats that Nojaw had seen back in their new hideout…the group must have somehow grown since Rambo’s death. All around, cats were clawing and biting, littering the ground with bloody tufts of fur. Nojaw thrust himself into the battle, slashing at the haunches of a gray she-cat. As she whirled around to retaliate, his claws caught her across the eye. With an agonized screech, the she-cat fled. Nojaw went to help Newtstripe grapple with two large tabby toms. As he clawed at them, he heard a horrific screech, and saw out of the corner of his eyes that another rogue had Snakepaw by the throat. The apprentice dangled from his jaws, weakly thrashing his paws as the huge ginger tom’s fangs slowly sank into his neck. Suddenly, Roughpaw came barreling over to the rogue, slamming into him with his bulky frame and biting hard down on his foreleg. The ginger tom screeched and dropped Snakepaw. Spottedpaw and Coalpaw ran to his side, lifting him onto their backs. Snakepaw laid limp across the other two apprentices, blood oozing from his throat as they hurried him over to Quietsnow’s den.

One of the toms Nojaw was fighting snapped his fangs dangerously close to his eye. He’d gotten distracted by Snakepaw’s ordeal, and hadn’t noticed that the other cat had Newtstripe pinned down. He ran to his friend’s aid, but the other tom grabbed him by the scruff and yanked him back. Suddenly, Mintwhisker was there, snarling furiously and grabbing the rogue by the ear. He screeched and let Nojaw go; the latter ran over and jabbed his claws right into the other rogue’s eye. With a wail, he released Newtstripe and went running towards the thorn tunnel. Nojaw helped Newtstripe to his paws as Mintwhisker wrestled with the first rogue. Newtstripe was panting heavily, and he had a nasty wound on his stomach that was pouring blood. Nevertheless, his eyes still shone with the fury of battle.

“Where’s Nightstrike?” he hissed. “We have to tell Scorchstar that he’s behind this!”

Nojaw suddenly spotted the deputy towards the center of the clearing. He hit a rogue across the face, as if fighting him off, but Nojaw could see that his claws were sheathed. Nearby, Fireberry was pinned under both George and Diamond, hissing as she clawed at them. Flamewing was trying to get to her mother, but two large she-cats had blocked her way. Nojaw was hurrying over to help, when suddenly, George grabbed Fireberry’s throat in his jaws and bit down hard. Blood spewed out of the ginger tabby she-cat’s mouth, and her scream died to a gurgle.

“MOTHER!” Flamewing sprang high into the air, soaring over the two she-cat rogues, and landed right next to George. Before he could react, she had him pinned to the ground, closing her jaws on his throat. 

“GEORGE!” Diamond wailed as a gush of blood erupted into the air from her companion’s neck. Suddenly, a flash of dark ginger bowled her over. Scorchstar let out a guttural scream as he wrestled the she-cat down on her back. He grabbed her throat and shook his head furiously until a sickening crack rang out and Diamond went limp. 

“George and Diamond are dead!” came a wail from one of the rogues. At the sight of their lifeless bodies, many of the cats fled from the camp. However, some remained. Tufty charged at Scorchstar, his eyes blazing as blood dripped from his torn, furless pelt. Scorchstar lunged at the old tom, biting right down on his spine and snapping it in half like a twig. More cats raced out of the clearing, until only a few were left. Robinclaw and Mintwhisker chased them out through the thorn tunnel. 

“Fireberry…” Scorchstar was standing over his mate’s limp body, his rage having suddenly disappeared. For the first time ever, Nojaw saw his leader trembling like a kit, his eyes wide with fear. 

“Fireberry, please.” His voice was tiny and shaky. “Don’t leave me.” He nuzzled her cheek.

“Mother…oh, Mother,” Flamewing sobbed, coming to join her father. She tenderly licked at Fireberry’s bloody pelt, trembling from head to tail.

Paleheart and Mintwhisker came into the camp, carrying their kits. 

“The kits!” Daycloud, who’d been standing guard outside the nursery, came running over to them. “You found them!”

“The rogues had them!” Newtstripe cried. “Nojaw and I found them...they were going to use them as a bargaining chip to be able to hunt in our territory!”

Nojaw looked across the clearing, noticing Nightstrike sitting nearby, his eyes hard as he watched Scorchstar and Flamewing grieve over Fireberry.

“Everyone, listen up!” Newtstripe cried. “Nightstrike was plotting this with the rogues! We followed his scent to their hiding place, where he ordered them to kill us!”

“What are you talking about!?” Robinclaw exclaimed. 

“Why would he do such a thing?” Daycloud growled, sending Newtstripe a challenging glare. 

“Newtstripe is telling the truth!” Mintwhisker spoke up. “Paleheart and I smelled Nightstrike’s scent when we went back out to find the kits. We tracked it to the Twoleg tunnels, and there, we found Newtstripe and Nojaw, covered in injuries and carrying our kits.” 

“Nightstrike was going to convince Scorchstar to go along with the negotiation, to let the rogues hunt in our territory in exchange for the kits’ return,” Newtstripe panted, seeming dizzy as blood continued to leak from his stomach wound. “And then the rogues were going to launch their attack…although it seems they decided to go ahead and do it after they lost their hostages.”

“But why would he do that!?” Spottedpaw cried, staring at his father. “He’s our deputy…why would he betray ShadowClan like that?”

“Newtstripe,” Scorchstar’s voice was low and thunderous as he looked up from Fireberry to glare at the tabby warrior. “I don’t know what nonsense you’re spewing, but I don’t have time for it right now. Shut up.”

“You honestly expect us to believe Nightstrike is behind this?” Flamewing lashed her tail. “My mother is dead! He couldn’t have done such a horrible thing!”

At that moment, Nightstrike began to convulse. Nojaw thought he was having some sort of fit, until a loud, dry mrrow of laugher erupted from him, quickly turning into mad cackling.

“You are so stupid, Scorchstar,” he sneered. “You shouldn’t have trusted in me so blindly.”

Scorchstar stared wordlessly at his deputy, ears flattened to his head in shock.

“How does it feel to lose someone you love?” Nightstrike sneered. “You led ShadowClan into that pointless battle that killed Goldendawn, my mother, and father. I wanted you feel that same pain, so I conspired with the rogues, and told them to kill Fireberry.”

“You filthy RAT!” Flamewing’s agonized voice pierced the air like a thorn. “I looked up to you! And you…you murdered my mother!”

“I’m sorry, Flamewing,” said Nightstrike, not sounding sorry at all. “I asked them to spare you, because I like you. If you hadn’t found out about this, I might have asked you to be my new mate.”

“TRAITOR!” Flamewing attempted to hurl herself at Nightstrike, but collapsed from a deep wound in her shoulder that she’d failed to notice. 

“How could you do this, Nightstrike!?” Daycloud pinned her ears down in horror as she gaped at her brother. 

“He should be exiled!” Roughpaw cried.

“Enough!” That rumble came from Scorchstar. He got to his paws and slowly walked up to Nightstrike, who curled his lip, a maddening gleam in his eye. 

“I don’t care if you exile me,” he sneered at the leader. “My plan worked—your punishment is complete, and I got to see you suffer.”

Scorchstar was silent. For a few tense, silent moments, he stood there, blankly staring at Nightstrike. Then, his face contorted into a frightening snarl, and he lashed out with his claws, scouring Nightstrike right across the throat. The black tom’s eyes widened as blood began to immediately spill from the huge claw marks. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but only a wet gag came out. Nightstrike stumbled sideways, and then collapsed, letting out a gurgling yowl that died into a whimper as the light faded from his eyes.

“May StarClan light your path, traitor,” Scorchstar spat.


	22. Chapter 22

The cool wind of leaf-fall blew through Nojaw’s pelt as he and several others carried prey back into the camp. He went over to the fresh-kill pile, and pulled a toad off of his claws. Next to him, Newtstripe was setting down a raven.

“Good catches today, everyone,” said Flamewing to the patrol. “Looks like you actually caught decent prey for once, Newtstripe.”

Newtstripe bit back a growl. Scorchstar had chosen his daughter to replace Nightstrike as deputy, which had also created some protests, as she was quite young. Although bossy, Flamewing was at least more competent than her predecessor, and didn’t keep Nojaw and Newtstripe confined to the camp. 

Strikestone’s kits came to the fresh-kill pile to deposit their prey as well. They were now warriors—and Snakepaw had been renamed Slashthroat, in honor of the long scar across his throat he’d received when the rogues attacked the camp. Although his own name wasn’t exactly pretty, Nojaw thought it was the worst name Scorchstar had come up with so far. However, Slashthroat seemed proud of it. The slender tabby and white tom’s eyes glinted arrogantly as he placed a large sparrow on the pile. His brother, Roughpelt, had grown much more large and muscular, his rough coat sharply contrasting with Slashthroat’s sleek pelt. 

“Wow, you all caught a lot!” Spottedpaw, now Spottedtalon, exclaimed as he came bounding over. He and his brother Coalfur had earned their names a half moon ago when they’d chased a fox away from the camp. Although they’d been badly shaken by their father’s betrayal to the Clan, they’d continued their training, and fortunately neither of them seemed to have taken on their father’s highly aggressive personality. As for Paleheart’s kits, they were approaching their sixth moon and were about to be apprenticed. Nojaw looked over towards the nursery, where he saw Jasminekit and Tankit wrestling as Paleheart watched them fondly. Both of them had grown a lot, although their fur was still kit soft. Their eyes were beautiful—Tankit had inherited his father’s green gaze, while Jasminekit’s eyes were a light shade of violet. 

“Nojaw!” the she-kit squeaked, noticing he was there. Jasminekit came bouncing over to him. “Did you catch a lot while on patrol?”

Nojaw nodded, letting out an affectionate purr as he looked down at the little gray she-cat. She and Tankit had been too little back in new-leaf to remember being kidnapped by the rogues, but they’d heard all about how Nojaw and Newtstripe rescued them. Now, the kits had followed them around quite a bit, thinking they were the most amazing cats in ShadowClan. 

“My father taught me a new battle move. Watch this!” Jasminekit exclaimed. She stood up on her hind legs and attempted to do a front flip, but landed awkwardly on her side. 

“I’m still getting the hang of it,” she said.

“Hey, keep practicing, and who knows what you’ll be able to do.” Newtstripe came over and playfully poked Jasminekit in the side. She grabbed his paw in her much smaller forepaws and batted at it with her hind feet. 

“Already battling, are we?” Mintwhisker purred with amusement as he came over to his daughter. “Newtstripe, Scorchstar wanted to see you and Spottedtalon in his den.” 

“Oh…uh, what for?” Newtstripe’s eyes widened. 

“I’m not sure, he didn’t say,” said Mintwhisker. 

Newtstripe exchanged a glance with Nojaw, and then headed over towards Scorchstar’s den.

“Look, Nojaw!” Tankit came running over. He unsheathed his claws. “I’m going to sharpen my claws so they’ll be as long as yours!”

Nojaw nodded approvingly, and then pushed a nearby stick over to Tankit. The little tom attacked it, grabbing it in his teeth and stripping off the bark with his claws. Jasminekit ran over to her brother and grabbed one end of the stick, trying to pull it away. They tugged it back and forth, until suddenly, a third cat came running over and sharply bit the stick in half, causing both kits to tumble in opposite directions. 

“Hey, we were playing with that, Wasppaw!” Jasminekit whined. 

“You two are going to be apprentices soon, and you’ll have to think fast like me.” Daycloud and Robinclaw’s daughter had grown large and sleek. Her bright amber eyes shone tauntingly as she licked at a patch of ruffled fur on her shoulder. Her mentor, who was Slashthroat, then called to her. As she walked away, Jasminekit whispered to Tankit, “I’m glad Wasppaw left the nursery. She’s mean!”

While Mintwhisker showed his kits some more fighting moves, Nojaw went over to the fresh kill pile to eat the toad he’d caught. He’d recently been shredding prey with his claws, tired of others chew it up for him. Once he’d mashed the toad into a pulp, he lapped it up with his tongue, relishing its fresh, saliva-free taste. A moment later, Newtstripe settled down beside him, choosing his raven from the pile. Nojaw flicked his ears questioningly. Newtstripe’s eyes shone with excitement as he mumbled into Nojaw’s ear, “Scorchstar has chosen me to mentor Jasminekit!”

Nojaw let out a loud purr, happy for his friend. He wondered if this was Scorchstar’s way of apologizing for having let Nightstrike treat Newtstripe badly. But then, Nojaw felt his heart sink. Scorchstar hadn’t called him to his den…

“I’m sorry,” Newtstripe murmured, as if reading Nojaw’s thoughts. “I suggested that you should be Tankit’s mentor, but Scorchstar wants Spottedtalon for that. He says that since you can’t talk, it would be difficult for you to fully train an apprentice.” 

Nojaw looked down at the ground. Scorchstar did have a point, but it still hurt. 

“Well, there’s no reason why you can’t help me mentor Jasminekit,” Newtstripe pointed out. “After all, you have skills that are far beyond me that you could show her.”

Nojaw perked up, lifting his head and nodding. At least he could do that. 

 

A few sunrises later, all of ShadowClan sat around as Scorchstar prepared to make Jasminekit and Tankit apprentices. The two young cats could hardly sit still, wriggling with anticipation. Jasminekit’s white chest shone like snow in the sunlight, her pale violet eyes wide with excitement. 

“Spottedtalon,” rumbled Scorchstar. “You will be mentor to Tanpaw. You are noble and brave—please pass these qualities along to him.”

Tanpaw stood up, quivering as he went to touch noses with the mottled golden tom. 

“Newtstripe,” said Scorchstar. “You will be mentor to Jasminepaw. You are humble but fearless—please pass these qualities along to her.”

Jasminepaw gasped loudly, her face lighting up with joy as she realized one of her idols would be her mentor. She bounced up to Newtstripe, nearly bumping heads with him as she touched her nose to his.

“Tanpaw! Jasminepaw!” ShadowClan chanted their new names. Nojaw let out a loud yowl, while Paleheart and Mintwhisker gazed proudly at their kits. 

“Can we go out and see the territory right now, Newtstripe!?” Jasminepaw cried. “Please?”

“Yes, we can,” Newtstripe purred. “Nojaw, why don’t you come with us?”

“Stay close!” Spottedtalon called to the apprentices as they rushed ahead. 

“Sorry—we’re just so excited that we finally get to leave the camp!” Jasminepaw squeaked.

“Well, we did leave the camp once, when the rogues took us,” Tanpaw pointed out. “But we don’t remember that. Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Were the rogues really hard to fight?” Jasminepaw asked. 

Newtstripe nodded. “They were, but we taught them that ShadowClan was stronger than them!” 

“I hope I get to fight a rogue one day.” Jasminepaw swiped at the air. “Then I’ll get ‘em back for kidnapping me and Tanpaw!” 

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing those rogues anymore,” said Newtstripe. “We scared them off pretty badly. But I’m sure you will fight cats from other Clans.” 

Suddenly, a frog leaped out of the undergrowth, croaking loudly.

Jasminepaw gasped. “I’ve never seen a live frog before!”

The little gray cat began to chase it. 

“Jasminepaw, get back here!” Newtstripe exclaimed. His apprentice disappeared around a pine tree as the frog hopped away. The others raced after Jasminepaw, following her to the lakeshore, where she skidded to a halt and stared out at the lake with wide eyes.

“Whoa!” she cried. “What is this?” 

“That’s the lake,” said Newtstripe, panting as he walked up to her.

“It’s so…big!” Jasminepaw walked to the edge of the water and tapped it with a paw.

“See that island out there?” Spottedtalon flicked his tail in the direction of it. “That’s where we have Gatherings.”

“Whoa!” Jasminepaw breathed. “I can’t wait for my first Gathering!”

She suddenly spotted a butterfly up above, and chased it as it fluttered away from the shore. Newtstripe rushed over and put a paw down on her tail. 

“Stop,” he told her sternly. “You have to stay close to me. It’s dangerous for apprentices wander off.”

“I’m not scared of anything!” Jasminepaw defiantly puffed out her chest. 

“Nojaw wandered off when he was a young apprentice,” said Newtstripe. “He ran into some dogs, and they tore off his jaw. He’s very lucky to have survived. You never know what could be lurking deep in the forest.” 

Nojaw nodded solemnly. Jasminepaw sighed, “Alright, I’ll stay near you.”

Nojaw suddenly remembered his first time out in the forest with Aspenpaw, and how they’d been awed by how big and wonderful everything seemed. He looked up towards the sky. Had Aspenpaw been watching him from StarClan? Could he see how powerful of a warrior he’d become? 

“Hey, Nojaw, everything okay?” said Newtstripe. “We’re headed off towards the marsh.” 

Nojaw gave a quick nod, and followed the others back into the forest.


	23. Chapter 23

“Wow! I can smell lots of prey!” 

A few sunrises later, Nojaw was on a patrol with Newtstripe, Jasminepaw, and the other mentors and apprentices. They were headed towards the ThunderClan border to check the scent marks. Jasminepaw hopped along, excitedly scenting the air. 

“What do ThunderClan warriors look like?” Tanleaf asked.

“Pretty much the same as us,” said Spottedtalon. “They just smell differently.” 

“They may look strong, but they’re cowards at heart,” said Slashthroat with a sneer.

“No they aren’t,” said Newtstripe, shaking his head. “I’ve fought them, and trust me, can be pretty fierce in battle.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion!” Slashthroat hissed at him. 

“Whoa…you shouldn’t talk to an older warrior that way,” said Spottedtalon. 

“Mind your own business!” Slasthroat snarled. 

“Yeah, shut up, Newtstripe!” Wasppaw chimed in.

Nojaw cringed. The gold and black tabby she-cat was quickly becoming as nasty tempered as her mentor. 

“Don’t tell my mentor to shut up!” Jasminepaw growled at the other apprentice, puffing out her fur. 

“Stop this!” Newtstripe yowled. “We’re here to check the border, not argue with each other!”

The border was now coming into sight; the musty smell of ThunderClan wafted over Nojaw’s tongue. Suddenly, a pheasant appeared a few fox lengths away, its back turned to the patrol as it pecked at the ground. Wasppaw was the first to react, silently creeping towards the large bird while keeping low to the ground. Nojaw had to admit, she was already quite skilled for her age. Suddenly, she stepped on a twig, cracking it in half. The pheasant, startled, spread its wings and floated up into the air. Wasppaw sprang, slashing out at the bird’s wing. It fell back down to the ground, then staggered awkwardly towards the ThunderClan border. 

“Wait, Wasppaw! You’re getting too close to the border!” Newtstripe called out. 

“Let her catch it! It’ll feed the whole Clan!” Slashthroat snapped. 

Wasppaw caught up to the pheasant and clamped her jaws down on its neck as one of her paws stepped over the border. Suddenly, a ThunderClan patrol came into view.

“Oh, fox dung,” said Newtstripe under his breath. 

“What are you doing on our territory!?” Nojaw’s heart sank as he saw that Swifthawk was leading the patrol. The massive tabby lashed his tail, golden eyes blazing with fury as he hissed, “Get out!” 

“I’m barely on your territory!” Wasppaw yowled defiantly. “This pheasant was on our side of the border, and I chased it!”

“Burningpaw, attack her!” Swifthawk yowled. An orangey-brown tabby apprentice went charging at Wasppaw. She stood protectively over her kill, hissing and arching her back. However, the other apprentice was more muscular—he grabbed her by the shoulders and flipped her over on her back. Wasppaw slashed at his belly with her hind claws, causing him to rear up on his hind legs and yowl in pain. 

“Stop! This doesn’t have to end in a fight!” Newtstripe cried. “We’ll take the pheasant and go!”

But no one was listening. Wasppaw and Burningpaw were flipping around in the grass and screeching wildly. Slashthroat was lashing his tail and snarling at Batfang, who was just on the other side of the border a fox-length away. The huge brown tom roared and launched himself at Slashthroat—it seemed as though the much bigger warrior would knock the skinny ShadowClan tom over, but Slashthroat darted out of the way as quick as a snake and raked his claws across Batfang’s shoulder. Nearby, Spottedtalon was grappling with a ginger and white she-cat, while Swifthawk and a black tom with a ginger chest mark were heading towards Nojaw and Newtstripe. Nojaw went for Swifthawk while Newtstripe went for the other warrior. 

“You again,” Swifthawk hissed at Nojaw. “I’m getting tired of seeing your hideous face.”

Nojaw sprang into the air, landing on Swifthawk’s back, and bit down on his spine. He leaped off the screeching ThunderClan warrior, jumping aside to avoid a blow from Swifthawk’s claws. Meanwhile, the black tom had Newtstripe pinned, but a swift kick in the stomach from the tabby sent his opponent flying. Nojaw ran from Swifthawk and went to help Spottedtalon, who was struggling beneath the claws of the ginger and white she-cat. A few swipes with his claws got her to release him.

“Thanks,” Spottedtalon panted as he got to his paws. He and Nojaw jumped out of the way as Batfang and Slashthroat went rolling by in a whirl of fangs and claws. A cry came from Wasppaw, who Burningpaw had pinned. She struggled feebly beneath the other apprentice as blood dripped from a gash on her forehead. Tanpaw ran over and sharply bit Burningpaw’s tail. The orangey-brown tabby whirled around, yowling, and clawed Tanpaw across the face before he could jump out of the way. As the latter closed his eyes and shrieked in pain, Burningpaw knocked him to the ground.

“Get off of my brother!” Jasminepaw went rushing over and sank her claws into Burningpaw’s tabby pelt. He whirled around, leaping around and biting down hard on her shoulder. Nojaw wanted to go help her, but Swifthawk was advancing on him again. He turned in the other direction, but his path was blocked by the black tom. Thinking quickly, Nojaw hunkered down in the grass as if afraid. Just before Swifthawk and his Clan mate could get their claws into him, he rolled out of the way, causing both toms to knock heads. Nojaw jumped up and saw Jasminepaw grappling with Burningpaw—the two apprentices were fighting while standing up on their hind legs. Jasminepaw’s gray pelt was smeared with blood, her violet eyes bright with pain as she tried to wriggle out of Burningpaw’s grasp, but he held on tight with his claws.

“Jasminepaw!” Newtstripe called out to her. “Remember what I taught you the other day?”

Jasminepaw suddenly went limp, hanging her head as if to give up. Burningpaw let out a triumphant yowl and flung her down to the ground. Suddenly, she sprang up, bashing the top of the head beneath his jaw and sending him toppling over. As he jumped up snarling, Swifthawk came running at Nojaw, although he was slightly dazed from having hit heads with the black tom. Nojaw flung his paw out in an upward scooping motion, catching Swifthawk by surprise as his claws raked up his face. Jasminepaw took note, and did the same thing to Burningpaw as he sprang at her. 

“Enough!” Suddenly, Redwing had appeared, with another patrol behind him. “Stop fighting!” the deputy barked. 

Everyone froze, except for Slashthroat and Batfang, who were still flailing around on the ground. Spottedtalon ran over to Slashthroat and cuffed him hard across the head. “Stop!” he snarled. 

“What is the meaning of this!?” Redwing demanded. His eyes narrowed to furious slits as his red tabby pelt bristled. 

“These ShadowClan pests were trespassing on our territory!” Swifthawk cried. 

“One of our apprentices was chasing a pheasant,” Newtstripe explained. “She accidentally crossed the border.” 

“Even if that’s true, you have no right to be here!” Swifthawk spat. 

“That’s enough!” Redwing ordered. “ShadowClan, take your prey and get out of here. Don’t let us catch you this close to the border again.”

“You’re just going to let them go, Father!?” Swifthawk exclaimed. 

“You’ve taught them a lesson, from what it seems.” Redwing lashed his tail as he ran his gaze over the bleeding ShadowClan cats. “Swifthawk, take your patrol back to camp and report to Sapstar.”

With one last snarl in Nojaw’s direction, Swifthawk turned and led his patrol away. Redwing and his patrol slipped back into the woods.

“Are you okay, Jasminepaw?” Newtstripe went limping over to his apprentice, whose head and shoulder were bleeding badly. However, her eyes shone.

“Did you see me!?” she cried. “That ThunderClan apprentice was sure surprised when I knocked the wind out of him!”

“You did very well,” Newtstripe praised her, licking at the wound on her forehead. “We best get back to camp and have Quietsnow look at our injuries.”

“Everyone fought well,” said Spottedtalon, giving Tanpaw a proud look.

“Well, I think I fought the best,” said Wasppaw, picking up the slain pheasant.

“Thanks for showing me that move, Nojaw!” said Jasminepaw. “I’ll be sure to use it again!” 

Nojaw purred, wishing that he could tell her that he thought she had fought the hardest.


	24. Chapter 24

“Newtstripe! Newtstripe, wake up!” 

Nojaw opened one eye to see Jasminepaw in the warrior’s den, pawing at Newtstripe. 

“Ugghh…what is it, Jasminepaw?” her mentor murmured sleepily. 

“It snowed last night!” Jasminepaw cried. “The whole camp is covered in it! You have to come see it!”

Newtstripe yawned. “I’ve seen snow plenty of times,” he said, with a hint of amusement in his tired voice. 

“Can we go out on patrol in it? Oh, please?” Jasminepaw begged.

“Yeah, sure…just please let me get a little more sleep first.” Newtstripe tucked his muzzle under his paw. 

When the sun had come up over the horizon, Newtstripe and Nojaw got up and emerged from the den. Leaf-bare had arrived, and sure enough, the camp was covered in snow. Jasminepaw was wrestling around in it with Tanpaw. Nojaw suddenly remembered the first time he and Aspenpaw had seen snow, and were awed by the cold white powder that fell from the sky. Jasminepaw and Tanpaw rolled past the elder’s den, sending up a spray of snow that hit Darkbriar, who had recently retried. 

“Hey! Watch what you’re doing!” she spat. 

Jasminepaw let out a triumphant yowl as she shoved Tanpaw head first into a snowdrift. He wriggled out backwards, shaking flakes from his pale brown coat. Jasminepaw was about to pounce on her brother again when Newtstripe gathered up a ball of snow with his paw and playfully threw it at her. She squeaked in surprise as it hit her shoulder and exploded. Whirling around and digging into the snow with her forepaws, she began to fling bits of snow back at Newtstripe. Tanpaw joined in, throwing a massive snowball across the clearing at the warrior. Suddenly, Nojaw intervened, jumping into the air and catching it between his paws. He landed on his haunches and then flung his forepaws out, sending the snowball sailing back towards Tanpaw. The apprentice dodged it at the last moment, and instead it hit Flamewing, who had just come back from a patrol. Jasminepaw and Tanpaw froze as the ShadowClan deputy hissed angrily. 

“What’s going on!?” Flamewing demanded.

“We were, um…playing with the snow,” Tanpaw spoke up. 

“Well, instead of flinging it around the camp, maybe you should do something productive, like go hunt for prey,” Flamewing growled. “This weather has driven most of it underground.” 

“C’mon, Jasminepaw, let’s go hunting.” Newtstripe beckoned his apprentice with his tail. “Tanpaw, Nojaw, you come too.”

“Okay!” Tanpaw bounded alongside his sister as they headed out. He’d been stuck in the camp for a few days, as Spottedtalon was recovering from a nasty bite wound he’d received chasing a badger out of the territory. The four cats headed out of the camp, where the pine forest seemed quite still and silent this morning. Nojaw could not hear or smell any sign of prey, as if the snow had muted everything. Up above, patches of the dark gray sky were visible among the treetops. The group made its way towards the lake, peering out of the pines at the shore.

“Whoa! What’s wrong with the lake!?” Jasmineheart cried. 

Newtstripe purred. “It’s frozen over. It does that during leaf-bare.” 

The apprentices walked across the frost covered shore, reaching out and touching the solid surface of the water. 

“That is so weird…but cool!” Tanpaw gasped. 

Jasminepaw cautiously put one paw in front of the other, until she was standing on the ice. 

“Careful!” Newtstripe called to her. “It’s really slippery—you could fall down!”

Just then, Jasminepaw slipped and went crashing down on her stomach, sliding across the ice and bumping into the frozen shore. She jumped back up, shaking her gray pelt, and then carefully used one paw to push herself along and glide across the lake’s surface. 

“This is fun!” she exclaimed. 

Tanpaw copied his sister’s moves, skating across the ice and then suddenly turning in a sharp circle to stop. Newtstripe came to the edge of the lake, giving the ice a hard tap with his paw.

“I guess it is thick enough to support my weight,” he said, carefully stepping onto the hard surface. Newtstripe slowly walked further out, but then slipped, crashing down hard on his side and sliding sideways. As he came to a halt, Jasminepaw jumped over him and then slid as she landed and swiftly turned to stop. 

“Looks like I learned how to slide on the ice all by myself!” she boasted. 

“Yeah, you did,” said Newtstripe with a sheepish grunt, as Tanpaw helped him get to his paws.

Nojaw made his way onto the ice, sinking his long claws in for traction. Then, with a heave, he propelled himself across the ice, skating past the others. He twirled around, sinking his claws in again and scraping long scours into the ice as he stopped. 

“Hey, Nojaw, don’t use your claws!” Jasminepaw exclaimed. “That’s cheating.”

Nojaw shrugged and then pushed off again, sliding several tail-lengths out and coming to a stop beside a twig sticking out of the ice. 

“Race you over there!” Jasminepaw cried, sliding towards Nojaw. Tanpaw nearly slipped as he skittered up beside his sister, struggling to outrun her. 

“I win!” Jasminepaw yowled triumphantly as she slowed to a stop and touched noses with Nojaw.

“No, _I_ win!” Newtstripe purred as he suddenly went sliding past all of them. Then, with a yelp, he fell over once more. 

“I’m not very graceful,” he groaned. 

Nojaw glided over to Newtstripe to help him up, when suddenly, a sharp crack rang out. He felt the ice buckle slightly under his paws as he looked down to see a dark, jagged line. Nojaw quickly scrabbled backwards, trying to get off the patch of thin ice. And then, the surface beneath him shattered, and he plummeted into the lake below. Nojaw flailed around as he was submerged into frigid water, bubbles filling his vision. He kicked his legs, trying to swim back up to the hole he’d fallen through, but he couldn’t make any sense of direction. He wriggled towards what he thought was up, and felt his claws scrape against hard, solid ice. Nojaw desperately clawed at the surface, trying to create another hole. Panic shot through him as water flowed into his exposed mouth—he was aware of a tight pressure growing in his chest as it filled up his lungs. The lake was so, so cold…it chilled him down to the bone. His legs were growing heavy and numb as he struggled to stay near the surface. 

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Nojaw spotted the hole. Dangling through it was a familiar brown paw, wildly beckoning to him. Newtstripe! Nojaw swam towards the hole, legs churning as he fought against the growing stiffness in his joints. He was becoming heavier and heavier as he paddled closer to Newtstripe’s paw…he reached out, almost touching it with his own paw….and then sank like a stone. Stars burst before Nojaw’s eyes as his waterlogged lungs threatened to explode. He gave one last feeble kick upwards, which did nothing. Nojaw closed his eyes.

_So this is how I die,_ he thought. _Not by defending my Clan in battle, but by falling through the ice and drowning…what a stupid death._

Despite the freezing cold, Nojaw could feel shame burning through his pelt.

_Mother…I’m sorry. I didn’t become the noble warrior you wanted me to be…I’m dying because I wasn't careful..._

Just as his consciousness started to fade, he heard a faint, echoing voice. 

“Nojaw! You can’t die!”

He opened his eyes, startled to see another cat floating next to him. Her semitransparent coat gave off a white glow, illuminating the dark water. Nojaw’s eyes met her own bright green. 

“Mother!?” he tried to yelp, but only bubbles came out. 

“Nojaw, you can’t die here. You must stay alive. The future of ShadowClan depends on you.” 

Glowpelt swam under him, pushing at his body with her head and sending him floating upwards. 

“Don’t give up, my son. Fight for your life.”

A fiery burst of energy shot through Nojaw. He pumped his legs with all his might, sailing up towards the surface. His head collided painfully with the ice above. 

_Fox dung!_ he silently cursed. _Where’s the hole!?_

Nojaw raked his claws across the solid surface and smashed at it with his head. 

_Come on, break…break…_

Three dark silhouettes appeared from up above, and the ice began to shake, as if they were pounding at it as well. Then, suddenly, the ice exploded, flying into pieces as another hole formed. Nojaw’s head shot through the surface. He gasped for air, but instead choked on the water lodged in his throat. He felt teeth grab him by the scruff and drag him out of the hole, just as his vision faded to black.

WHAM!

A powerful force struck against Nojaw’s chest. His eyes flew open as water spewed out of his mouth. He was hit hard in the chest again, and he vomited up more foul tasting water. Nojaw cried out in pain as two paws came down on him once again, begging whoever was doing it to stop…it hurt so much. Nojaw coughed and gasped violently. He could breathe again! He greedily gulped the sweet, precious air, his sides heaving as he spat up one last burst of water. 

“Nojaw!” Newtstripe’s voice was high-pitched with fear as he stared at his best friend. “Oh, great StarClan…Nojaw…we thought we’d lost you…”

Nojaw heaved himself up with his quivering forelegs, panting hard. Jasminepaw and Tanpaw were sitting on the other side of him, looking weak with relief. Newtstripe and the apprentices furiously licked at his pelt, using their tongues to try and get him warm. 

“What’s going on!?” Coalfur came running up to the shore with a patrol behind him. 

“We were sliding around on the ice for fun, and then it broke and Nojaw fell in,” Newtstripe said between heavy breaths. “He’s really cold, and he almost drowned…we have to get him to Quietsnow’s den now!” 

Coalfur came over, helping Newtstripe support Nojaw’s weight. They quickly carried him back to the camp. Nojaw groaned, thankful for the warm feel of their fur. He felt even better as they entered the insulated, dry medicine den. Spottedtalon stirred awake in a nest of bracken and moss, looking startled as he saw Nojaw being carried in. As Tanpaw went over to his mentor and explained what happened, Coalfur and Newtstripe lowered Nojaw into his own nest. Quietsnow was immediately at his side, listening to his chest. Realizing that his breathing was slightly ragged, she pushed down hard on his chest, making Nojaw cough up another jet of water. 

_I’m going to be spitting it up until new-leaf,_ he thought.

Quietsnow dabbed at his soggy pelt with a wad of dry moss. Newtstripe and Jasminepaw curled up on either side of him, licking him to help get him warm and dry again. Quietsnow then offered Nojaw a poppy seed, which he lapped up gratefully. He quickly drifted off to sleep, lulled by the seed’s effects and the steady breathing of Newtstripe and Jasminepaw. Just before he fell completely unconscious, he heard Glowpelt’s soft voice.

"You did it, my son. I knew you could."


	25. Chapter 25

“Gotcha!”

Jasminepaw leaped into the air, catching a puffy dandelion head between her paws that had been floating on the breeze. New-leaf had arrived. In the past few moons, Jasminepaw had really honed her hunting skills, but she still enjoyed to catch things other than prey. 

Nojaw stretched and yawned, welcoming the sun on his pelt. He and Newtstripe were lying on a dry patch of grass outside the warrior’s den—a recent rain had created deep, muddy puddles all over the camp. Nojaw curled his lip in disgust—he hated water now. But he did appreciate the warm new-leaf breeze and the fresh scents that it brought. 

Just then, Robinclaw came into the camp, leading a patrol. He had taken over as deputy temporarily—Flamewing was in the nursery, about to have Roughpelt’s kits. Spottedtalon and Tanpaw were part of the patrol. Jasminepaw gasped as she saw her brother carrying a huge quail. 

“Did you catch that all on your own!?” she cried, running over to him.

Tanpaw nodded. He went and put the quail on the fresh-kill pile, spitting out a mouthful of feathers. 

“Wow, that’s a huge bird!” Quietsnow exclaimed as she walked past. “If you don’t mind, Tanpaw, I think I’ll collect the feathers so Flamewing can use them as bedding.”

Nojaw felt a rush of admiration for Quietsnow—she had gone from a shy apprentice to a skilled, confident medicine cat. However, there was a touch of sadness in her gray eyes. Puddleshine had passed away a few sunrises ago. They’d lost almost all the elders the past leaf-bare—only Darkbriar and Yarrowleaf were left. The two old she-cats were sitting outside the elder’s den sharing tongues. 

“Come on, Jasminepaw, let’s go out for a training session,” said Newtstripe.

“Okay!” Jasminepaw purred, bounding alongside her mentor.

Nojaw followed them out of the camp, and the three of them made their way to a clearing in the woods used for training. Slashthroat and Wasppaw were there—the latter was crouched down, as if she was stalking something. Suddenly, she leaped, striking out at a robin. The startled bird shrieked and fell over, blood spraying up from its wing. The robin tried to stand up, but Wasppaw sharply cuffed it over the head. Her eyes gleamed tauntingly as she raked her claws down its side again.

“What are you doing!?” Newtstripe exclaimed. “We don’t play with prey, we kill it right away!”

“She’s not your apprentice!” Slashthroat hissed. “Don’t tell her what to do.” 

“Hunting for pleasure is against the warrior code.” Newtstripe narrowed his eyes. “If Wasppaw doesn’t kill that robin now, I’ll report you both to Scorchstar.”

Slashthroat snorted. “Do you really think he’ll care about a stupid bird?”

Wasppaw clamped her jaws down on the robin’s throat, and it finally stopped moving. 

“There, it’s dead. Are you happy?” she spat. 

“Leave my apprentice’s training to me,” Slashthroat snarled at Newtstripe. “I feel bad for your apprentice. I bet you’re teaching her to kindly ask prey to jump into her mouth.” 

“I know how to kill prey!” Jasminepaw hissed, her gray fur spiking up indignantly. 

“Yeah, well your fighting skills are terrible,” Wasppaw sneered. “You’re going to get killed in a battle before you ever become a warrior.” 

“Oh yeah?” Jasminepaw narrowed her violet eyes, and lashed her tail. “Fight me, then. I’ll prove to you that I’m not weak!”

“I’d be glad too.” Wasppaw flexed her claws. 

“Both of you keep your claws sheathed!” said Newtstripe. 

“What are you, Newtstripe, an idiot?” Slashthroat spat. “How are they ever going to learn to fight real battles if they don’t use their claws?”

Before Newtstripe could object, the two she-cats flew at each other, colliding in midair and rolling around in the grass. Wasppaw pinned Jasminepaw down and clawed her cross the face, creating a bloody welt above her eye. Jasminepaw screeched, pummeling at Wasppaw’s underside with her hind paws. She managed to wriggle free. Snarling, she slashed Wasppaw across the shoulder. The black and gold tabby let out a startled shriek as drops of blood scattered across the grass. 

“Easy, Jasminepaw!” Newtstripe cried. 

But his apprentice was too furious to listen. She stood up on her hind legs, wildly pounding at Wasppaw’s head with her forepaws. Her opponent jumped away, running around Jasminepaw in a flash, and gripped the end of the gray she-cat’s tail in her teeth. Jasminepaw wailed in pain. Newtstripe moved as if to intervene, but suddenly Jasminepaw was flying at Wasppaw, sending them both rolling again. Wasppaw came out on top, pinning Jasminepaw as they both panted and shook drops of blood from their eyes. Wasppaw spread her jaws, about to bite deeply into Jasminepaw’s shoulder.

“STOP!” Newtstripe and Nojaw ran over, pulling the two apprentices apart. Wasppaw whirled around, hissing wildly as Nojaw tugged at her shoulders. He slammed her muzzle down into the dirt before she could bite him. Jasminepaw was lying in the grass, whimpering as Newtstripe examined the wound above her eye. 

“Why did you stop them?” Slashthroat snapped. “Wasppaw was keeping up a good fight.”

Newtstripe turned to Slashthroat, his eyes narrowed to furious slits. 

“This way of fighting is way too dangerous!” he roared. “I wasn’t going to let Wasppaw hurt my apprentice.” 

“It’s Jasminepaw’s fault that she lost!” Slashthroat hissed. “If she can’t handle injuries during training, then she won’t survive a real battle. Your softness has ruined her, Newtstripe.” 

Newtstripe curled back his lips and exposed his fangs. For a moment, Nojaw thought that he was about to fling himself at Slashthroat, when suddenly, a pungent scent made everyone freeze.

“There’s a fox nearby!” Wasppaw hissed under her breath. 

Newtstripe stood protectively over Jasminepaw as a bush rustled nearby. Two yellow eyes gleamed from the shade of the pine trees, staring right at the cats. They unsheathed their claws and hissed warningly at the fox. The creature let out a sharp, angry bark, and then stepped out of the shade, its red pelt blazing in the sunlight. Suddenly, Wasppaw charged right at the fox, becoming a blur of gold and black as she slashed it across its nose. It yelped and jumped back. Wasppaw darted around behind the fox and bit its hind leg. As whirled around to bite her in return, Nojaw leapt up at the fox’s neck, hanging on with his claws. The animal staggered sideways, shrieking and trying to shake Nojaw off. Slashthroat attacked the fox’s side, running his claws along its ribs. Then, Wasppaw leaped on the fox’s back, grabbing its ear in her fangs and ripping it swiftly in half. The fox howled as blood spurted into the air. The cats jumped back as the fox turned and fled into the forest. 

“What’s going on here!?” Robinclaw went running into the clearing, followed by a few other warriors. “We heard screeching all the way from the camp!”

“I fought a fox.” Wasppaw tilted her head arrogantly. “I ripped its ear in half and sent it running!” 

“She did!” Slashthroat exclaimed. “That mange-ridden beast was no match for her!” 

Robinclaw’s eyes widened with pride for his daughter. “I can’t believe it—you fought it off all yourself?” 

“No, we all fought it, but she was the one who drove it away,” said Slashthroat. 

“Well, let’s get everyone back to camp and have their injuries look at—and we must tell Scorchstar what Waspflight has done!” Robinclaw purred. 

On the way back, Newtstripe tried to tell his brother that Jasminepaw’s injuries were from Wasppaw and not the fox, but Robinclaw was too busy boasting over his daughter. Newtstripe gave back, falling back in stride with Nojaw and growling under his breath. Jasminepaw limped along, looking miserable. Nojaw gave her head a gentle lick.   
When they got to the camp, word of Wasppaw’s accomplishment quickly spread around. Nojaw had to admit she’d been brave, but the sight of the mean spirited apprentice soaking in all the praise made him want to claw her across the face. 

“Wasppaw, I think you have earned your warrior name,” Scorchstar rumbled, coming out of his den.

Nojaw groaned inwardly. At least she wouldn’t be training with Jasminepaw anymore. He sat down beside Newtstripe as the warrior’s ceremony began. The tabby tom was quivering with anger, his ears pinned halfway down as he was barely able to stop lashing his tail. Nojaw clawed at the dirt as he half-listened to Scorchstar say the traditional words. 

“Wasppaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Waspflight,” said Scorchstar. “StarClan honors your fearlessness and ambition, and we welcome you as a full member of ShadowClan.” 

While everyone else chanted Waspflight’s new name, Newtstripe and Nojaw headed off to Quietsnow’s den, where Jasminepaw was having her wounds looked at. 

“These don’t look like injuries from a fox,” said Quietsnow with a frown as she pressed a wad of cobwebs to the gash above Jasminepaw’s eye.

“I…I challenged Waspflight to a fight,” Jasminepaw admitted. “She said I was weak, and I got angry. She fought with her claws unsheathed, so I did too. We only stopped because the fox showed up.” Jasminepaw looked down at the ground. “I know it was wrong, but she was saying such horrible things about me.” 

Quietsnow frowned. “Certainly Slashthroat knows that using unsheathed claws during training is against the rules?”

“He doesn’t care,” Newtstripe snarled. “He said I was too soft when I reminded him of that rule.” 

His voice grew softer as he looked down at Jasminepaw. 

“Hey, don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll get your warrior name soon enough. Waspflight is wrong—you are not weak.” 

Jasminepaw looked up at Newtstripe as Nojaw nodded in agreement. 

“Thanks,” she said softly.


	26. Chapter 26

“Blegghh, it’s so hot!” Newtstripe groaned. He and Nojaw were on patrol once more, with the apprentices, Spottedtalon, Mintwhisker, and Paleheart. It was green-leaf now, and indeed very hot. The air buzzed with the hum of insects, and it was uncomfortably humid. 

“I would jump in the swamp if I didn’t want to smell like toad dung for the rest of the day,” said Newtstripe, looking over at the murky water nearby. 

“How about we go to the lake once we’ve checked the border?” Tanpaw suggested. “It’ll be cool there.”

“That’s a good idea,” agreed Mintwhisker, who was leading the patrol. 

Suddenly, Jasminepaw wrinkled her nose. “Eew, what’s that stench?” she said. 

“Um…that’s the swamp, Jasminepaw,” said Newtstripe. “You know that.”

She shook her head. “No, I smell something different. I think it’s a cat…a really stinky cat.” 

Nojaw scented the air, his fur bristling with alarm as he realized Jasminepaw was right. Among the usual scents of the forest, he could taste a hint of a sickly sweet smell that was somehow familiar. 

“It smells like a kittypet,” said Mintwhisker. “It’s been here recently. I’m surprised they’re brave enough to come this far into our territory!”

“We better go find it and chase it out,” said Spottedtalon, unsheathing his claws.

They tracked the scent of the kittypet, which led them towards the RiverClan border. 

“I’ve never met a kittypet before,” said Tanpaw. “Do they know how to fight at all?”

Spottedtalon snorted. “No. They don’t even know how to catch their own food.”

“What do they even do all day?” asked Jasminepaw.

Newtstripe shrugged. “Beats me.”

Mintwhisker signaled with his tail for everyone to be quiet as he spotted the kittypet in a clearing up ahead. It was a sleek, dark red tabby tom with a collar around its neck. It seemed to be lost, as it was looking around confusedly. 

“Wait….” Newtstripe whispered. “Is that…?” 

Before he could finish, Mintwhisker and Spottedtalon burst through the undergrowth, snarling at the intruder. The kittypet yelped in terror, crouching down to the ground. 

“I’m not here to steal prey, I swear!” he cried. 

“Wait! I recognize this cat!” Newtstripe came running out. “Spicy, is that you?” 

The red cat shook his head. “No, I’m Spicy’s son, Taco.” Suddenly, his eyes widened in recognition. “I think I remember you…you’re Newtpaw, right?”

“I’m Newtstripe now,” the warrior replied. “Mintwhisker, Paleheart, don’t you remember when those kittypets helped us find Rambo? Taco was just a kit back then.”

“Oh…I do remember now,” said Mintwhisker, letting his fur lie flat. However, Spottedtalon, who hadn’t been born yet at that time, continued to growl menacingly at Taco.

“Stop it,” Newtstripe growled at the mottled warrior. “He’s not a threat.” He turned to Taco. “It’s good to see you gain. You’ve gotten big! But I do have to ask you what you’re doing on our territory.” 

“Well…you see, I live with new Twolegs now,” said Taco. “I’m still near my parents’ place, but in a different yard. It’s a great place, and there’s a beautiful she-cat who lives next door to me named Sophie.”

“Get to the point,” said Spottedtalon curtly. 

“These dogs have been harassing us,” said Taco. “They’re always getting away from their Twolegs. They’re big and scary, and they can jump fences. They keep coming into our yards and chasing me and Sophie and our other neighbors. I…I wanted to see if maybe ShadowClan could scare them away.” 

Nojaw’s pelt grew hot as hatred seethed through him. He sank his claws into the ground, remembering the huge, slobbering beasts that had shown no mercy to him and Aspenpaw.

“Nojaw here would love to shred some dogs,” said Newtstripe. “But I’m not sure if our leader, Scorchstar, is going to be willing to help.”

Taco nodded. “I understand that, it’s just that I’ve seen those dogs marking near your territory. If your leader doesn’t want to help us, then at least I can give you a warning that they might come into the forest.” 

Nojaw lashed his tail, looking to his fellow warriors. 

“We’ll talk to Scorchstar about it,” said Mintwhisker. “Meet us at sun-high tomorrow where the forest and the Twolegplace meet and we’ll give you our answer.” 

“Thank you!” said Taco. 

“How’s your family?” Newtstripe asked. 

“They’re fine. I see them now and then,” said Taco. “My parents still live at the same place, but my brother Nacho and sister Tequila have found new homes like me.” He then looked sad. “Ralph passed away, though. He was old.” 

Nojaw’s anger subsided, replaced with a heavy feeling in his chest as he bowed his head in respect. Ralph might have been a dog, but he was nothing like those monsters that had attacked him long ago. 

“We’re sorry to hear that,” said Newtstripe. “Without Ralph, we may have never found the rogues’ hideout.” 

“Thank you again,” said Taco, dipping his head. “Y’know, you Clan cats aren’t mean like all the other house cats say you are.” 

“Oh, there’s some that are,” said Newtstripe, obviously thinking about Waspflight and Slashthroat. “You’re lucky it was us that found you.” 

 

“Dogs, you say?” Scorchstar murmured, tapping his tail on the floor of his den. “I’m not sure I’m willing to risk the lives of my warriors to save a few kittypets.”

“It’s the least we could do to pay them back. They helped us find Rambo,” said Newtstripe with a slight growl. 

“Yes, and Taco mentioned that he’s seen these dogs on the edge our territory,” said Mintwhisker in a calmer voice. “We could be in danger, too. What if they came near the camp?” 

“Alright,” Scorchstar growled. “Tell this…Taco that I’ll send some warriors to scare off the dogs.” He narrowed his eyes. “None of you better die.” 

Nojaw unsheathed his claws and narrowed his eyes. He’d cheated death twice now—nothing was going to take him down.

“I’ll choose who will go tomorrow morning,” said Scorchstar. “And I want extra guards posted at the camp entrance, in case those dogs decide to show up here.” 

The warriors left Scorchstar’s den to see Jasminepaw and Tanpaw sitting outside, eyes filled with curiosity. 

“He said yes,” Newtstripe told them.

“Wow, I’m surprised he did!” Jasminepaw said under her breath. “Scorchstar doesn’t seem fond of kittypets.”

“He’s not, but since there’s a risk to ShadowClan as well, he wants the dogs taken care of,” said Newtstripe. He looked over across the camp towards the nursery, where Flamewing was watching her son, Spikekit, play. He was her only kit, and was named for his spiky ginger fur. The little tom went bouncing after a cricket, letting out a squeak of triumph as he trapped it under his forepaws. 

“Scorchstar will probably choose you and Nojaw to go,” said Jasminepaw to Newtstripe. “Could you ask him to take me with you?”

Newtstripe stiffened. “I don’t know,” he said. “This is an awfully dangerous mission.”

“So?” Jasminepaw puffed out her chest. “I’m not going to be an apprentice forever. I’ll have to face some big danger sooner or later.”

“She’s right,” said Tanpaw. “I’d like to come too. Waspflight just earned her warrior name, and now it’s time for us to earn ours.” 

Newtstripe sighed. “I’m not going to be able to talk you two out of this, am I?” 

 

The following morning, Scorchstar chose the group of cats who would go to meet Taco at the border. As Jasmiepaw had predicted, Newtstripe and Nojaw were chosen, along with Spottedtalon, Mintwhisker, Coalfur, and Roughpelt. Scorchstar agreed to let the apprentices go, as long as they promised to do what their mentors said. As they headed towards the camp entrance to leave, Spikekit came running up to them. 

“I want to go too!” he cried. 

Roughpelt, his father, let out an amused purr. “No Spikekit, you’re not big enough.”

“But I’m a warrior! I’m not afraid of anything!” the spiky-furred kit insisted, holding his little head up proudly.

“You’re not a warrior yet,” said Flamewing, coming over to her son. “But someday you will be. I know you’ll be the best fighter in ShadowClan!” 

“But I want to be the best fighter _now_ ,” Spikekit whined as Flamewing picked him up by the scruff and carried him back to the nursery.

The patrol reached the edge of the forest right at sun-high. Taco was sitting and waiting just outside the ShadowClan territory. His eyes widened with delight as he saw the warriors approaching, and gave a purr in greeting.

“I knew you’d come!” he exclaimed. “Come, I’ll show you where I live!” 

As they headed to Twolegplace, Jasminepaw and Tanpaw bombarded Taco with questions.

“Why do you live with Twolegs?” Jasminepaw asked.

“Um…I don’t know. Why do you live in the forest?” Taco replied.

“Is it true that you eat food that tastes like rabbit droppings?” Tanpaw asked.

Taco flinched. “Where did you here that? No, my food tastes fine.”

“Doesn’t that collar irritate your neck?” said Jasminepaw. “It would drive me insane, having to wear one of those.”

“Okay, I think that’s enough questions,” said Newtstripe. 

A few moments later, they approached a wooden fence. Scrambling over it, they landed in a Twoleg yard. It all looked so strange—the grass was very short, the only foliage was a small tree and a few bushes, and there was a round pool of water with two very large orange fish swimming in it.

“Don’t try to eat them,” Taco warned the ShadowClan cats. “My Twolegs got really mad one time when I tried to catch one.” 

Roughpelt snorted. “We’re not RiverClan cats, we don’t eat fish.”

“What do you eat?” Taco asked curiously.

“Frogs and toads, mostly,” Roughpelt replied.

Taco’s eyes widened. “Frogs and toads?” he repeated.

“They’re actually delicious,” said Roughpelt. 

“Huh,” said Taco. “I guess I should try to catch one sometime.”

At that moment, another cat came climbing over the fence from the next yard over. She was a beautiful dark tortoiseshell she-cat with a white chest and bright blue eyes. A pink collar was around her neck, with a tiny object dangling from it that made a strange tinkling noise as she walked. 

“Oh, this is Sophie,” Taco introduced them. “Sophie, this is ShadowClan.”

“Um…hi,” said Sophie shyly. She kept her distance, as if she didn’t quite trust the visitors. Suddenly, she noticed Nojaw’s face, and jumped backwards with a small shriek. 

“It’s okay,” said Taco. “These cats will not hurt you.”

“Um…okay…can I go and get Shrya?” Sophie asked. “She’ll want to hear that something’s being done about the dogs.”

Taco nodded. “Shryra is Sophie’s sister,” he explained as Sophie once again disappeared over the fence. “She also lives nearby. I hope you don’t mind, but I also invited my siblings, Nacho and Tequila, to come over as well.”

After a short amount of time, Sophie returned with another she-cat. This one had a blue collar and darker blue eyes. Her fur was gray and white, with splotches of dark brown here and there. 

“Hi, Shrya,” Taco greeted her. 

“Hey,” said Shyra. She gave the ShadowClan cats a weary glance. “Are you sure we can trust them, Taco?” 

“I’m positive,” said Taco. “I walked deep into their territory and they didn’t kill me—that should be enough proof for you!”

“Hmph,” said Shyra. She sat down and licking her shoulder, suspicion still visible in her eyes.

A light brown tabby tom and a silver tabby she-cat came scrabbling over the opposite fence.

“Hey, it’s Newtpaw and Nojaw!” The tom, Nacho, exclaimed.

“It’s _Newtstripe_ now,” the ShadowClan warrior said with a purr. “Wow, you have really grown!” 

“So have you,” said Nacho. 

“We heard that Rambo died…did you all kill him?” Tequila asked. 

“Yes we did,” Newtstripe replied. “He killed our leader, Tigerstar, so Nojaw here clawed his throat out!” 

Tequila gasped and took a step back from the warriors. “Well, um…good riddance,” she said.

“Alright, enough chit-chat,” said Shyra. Her eyes hardened as she tapped her tail impatiently on the grass. “I want to hear about how we’re going to get rid of these dogs.”

“Right,” said Taco. “We should station the ShadowClan warriors throughout the neighborhood, as you never know what yard the dogs will appear in first.” 

Mintwhisker nodded in agreement. “Whoever sees the dogs first should lead them away, towards where the other warriors are stationed. Then we can attack them both together.”

“But how will we know that the dogs are coming?” said Jasminepaw.

“Oh, you’ll hear them,” said Taco. “They’re noisy pests, howling and barking their heads off whenever they see a cat. The whole neighborhood always hears it.”

“How big are they?” asked Spottedtalon.

“One of them is really big, and the other is medium sized,” Taco replied. With a frown he added, “Both of them seem capable of doing a lot of damage to a cat if they catch one.” 

“Let’s split up into groups then,” said Mintwhisker. “Nacho and Tequila, you can take me, Spottedtalon, and Tanpaw over near where you live. Nojaw, Newtstripe, and Jasminepaw, you stay here and guard this yard. Coalfur and Roughpelt, you go over to wherever Shyra lives.”

Shyra’s eyes hardened with mistrust. Upon sensing this, Sophie said, “I’ll go with you.” 

Taco watched as the two she-cats led Coalfur and Roughpelt away. Newtstripe murmured to Taco, “You like Sophie, don’t you?” 

Taco flinched. After a moment’s hesitation, he whispered, “Well, yeah. What about it?”

“Don’t you think you should tell her how you feel?” Newtstripe whispered back.

Taco shrugged. “I…don’t really know how to tell her,” he said. “I think she might feel the same way…I’m sort of waiting for her to confess first.” 

Before Newtstripe could respond, Taco suddenly twitched his ears. 

“Oh no, I forgot…my Twolegs usually come out this time of day to feed me!” he said. “You’d better hide.”

The ShadowClan cats hurried over to the bushes and ducked under them just as a Twoleg emerged from the den. It was holding something in its paw—it bent down and held the object over a bowl. Small brown pellets emerged from the object and went pouring into the bowl. Taco came over to his Twoleg, rubbing up against its legs. The Twoleg petted Taco’s head, and then disappeared back into the den. 

“You can come out now!” Taco called to the ShadowClan cats. 

“You let that Twoleg touch you!?” Jasminepaw exclaimed, her violet eyes wide. 

“Well, yeah,” said Taco. “She loves me. Twolegs keep cats because they think we’re cute.”

“Some do, anyways,” Newtstripe muttered. Nojaw wondered if he was thinking about the last time they’d been in the Twolegplace, when an aggressive Twoleg had thrown something at them.

“Do you want some of my food?” Taco gestured with his paw towards the bowl. “I’m not really hungry.”

“No thank you,” said Newtstripe. “We caught and ate some prey before we came.” 

Nojaw could smell the pellets, and tried not to gag at their greasy scent. He wondered how in StarClan any cat could eat those.

“I couldn’t ever be a kittypet,” said Jasminepaw. “What do you even do all day?”

Taco shrugged. “I visit the neighborhood cats, or sometimes visit my Twolegs inside. There’s a little door they made for me so I can go in and out.” With a pause, he asked Jasminepaw, “What do warriors do all day?”

“We go on patrols to make sure other Clans haven’t been invading our territory, and we hunt for prey,” she replied. “In the camp we share tongues and take care of elders and kits. Every full moon, there’s a truce among the Clans, so we meet on an island in the middle of the lake with all the other Clans in peace and share news.” 

“That sounds interesting,” said Taco, a genuinely intrigued look on his face. “But I’m not sure if I could ever live that kind life.” 

“Well…I can’t imagine living anywhere other than in ShadowClan…but I suppose being a kittypet isn’t all that bad,” Jasminepaw admitted. 

Nojaw, Newtstripe, and Jasminepaw took position on the fence, watching for the dogs. A few small ones walked past, but they were all with Twolegs that kept them close with tendrils attached to their collars. After a while, the Twolegplace grew quiet as a gray cloud passed over the sun. Newtstripe stifled a yawn. 

“Well, maybe the dogs aren’t coming today…” 

Newtstripe was interrupted by a booming, frantic sound. _“ARK ARK ARK ARK!”_ A flash of black went running at the fence, slamming into it and causing it to shake. Jasminepaw went tumbling through the air, towards the wide open jaws of a huge dog.


	27. Chapter 27

Nojaw became a white blur as he jumped from the fence, landing on the dog’s head and swiping his claws across its nose. With a high-pitched yelp, the dog flung its head back, its jaws missing Jasminepaw as she landed on her paws. She bit the dog’s foreleg, causing it to stagger backwards. Before it could shake Nojaw off, the jawless tom jumped off its head and clawed at the beast’s other foreleg. 

“NOJAW! LOOK OUT!” 

Newtstripe leaped from the fence and landed on the back of another dog that was coming up behind Nojaw. It was smaller than the other dog, with a mottled brown coat, but was still much larger than a cat. It let out a thunderous howl as Newtstripe slashed at its pelt. Nojaw and Jasminepaw ran in circles around the black dog, trying to confuse it. The massive creature snapped its jaws open and shut, trying to catch the cats. Suddenly, the brown dog flung Newtstripe off and went for Jasminepaw. The apprentice nimbly ducked and slid under its legs. The black dog made another lunge for the cats--Nojaw and Newtstripe ran in opposite directions, causing the two dogs to smash heads. They reared back in opposite directions with loud, pained whines. While they were stunned, Nojaw slashed at the heels of the brown dog while Newtstripe and Jasminepaw attacked the black dog.

“ARROOO!!!” The brown dog let out an enraged howl and whirled around to face Nojaw. The ShadowClan warrior froze as the beast fixed him with a deadly glare, its fangs slowly spreading as a savage growl rose in its chest. Nojaw was suddenly taken back to his first day of apprenticeship many seasons ago—he’d stared right into the eyes of a furious dog then, too, just before it had grabbed him in his jaws. Images flashed in his mind of his jaw being violently ripped off, an explosion of blood, and unspeakable pain…

Just before the dog in the present grabbed Nojaw, Jasminepaw went sailing into him, knocking him out of the way. He and the apprentice went tumbling into the fence. The black dog was suddenly there, towering over them, but then Newtstripe leaped through the air, grabbing onto the dog’s neck and hanging on. It yelped, jumping back and trying to shake the tabby warrior off. Nojaw and Jasminepaw struggled to their paws, only to suddenly be cornered against the fence by the brown dog. Suddenly, a beige blur went flying through the air and latched onto the dog’s muzzle. It screamed and wildly shook its head back and forth as its attacker sank its fangs in, sending up a spray of blood. 

“Tanpaw!” Jasminepaw cried. 

Spottedtalon and Mintwhisker were there too, launching themselves at the dogs and screeching wildly. Roughpelt and Coalfur came running from the other direction. Soon the dogs were completely surrounded by hissing, snarling cats. The brown dog whimpered and trembled, pressing up against its companion. 

“RAWRRRGGHH!!!” The black dog had had enough. With a livid howl, it reached out and grabbed Spottedtalon by the haunch, yanking the mottled warrior high up into the air. 

“Let my mentor go, you mangy brute!” Tanpaw bit down hard on the black dog’s paw, blood gushing out of the apprentice’s mouth as he plunged his fangs deep in. The dog dropped Spottedtalon. Before it could grab Tanpaw, the young tom had darted away. Coalfur and Mintwhisker stood protectively over the stunned Spottedtalon as Roughpelt dealt several heavy blows to the black dog’s muzzle. Nojaw and Jasminepaw stared down the brown dog, hissing menacingly. With a whine, it turned and ran. However, the black dog was far too angry to flee. Roughpelt narrowly avoided a bite to the head as the beast’s fangs flashed right where he’d just been. Nojaw panted, his muscles aching with exhaustion. How much longer were they going to have to keep this up? 

Suddenly, the black dog let out a surprised yelp and twirled around. Taco was there, gripping the tip of the dog’s tail in his teeth. The dog lunged at him, but Taco jumped out of the way. The dark furred beast kept going and smashed right into the fence. Suddenly, Shyra came running into the crowd. She unsheathed her claws and raked them across the dog’s heels. 

“Stay away from our yards, you monster!” she snarled.

Nacho, Tequila, and Sophie appeared as well. The kittypets kept a fair distance, but all had quite fearsome snarls on their faces, even the shy Sophie. The dog panted, blood dripping from its nose, neck, and paw. Then, it leaped over the cats, and went running the way the brown dog had gone.

“We did it!” Jasminepaw cried. Everyone yowled together in unison, the air shaking with the thrill of victory. 

“Thank you all so much,” said Taco thickly. “You’ve saved us all.”

“Are you okay?” Sophie approached Spottedtalon, looking at the bleeding wound on his haunch. “We should probably get you to the vet.”

Spottedtalon tilted his head. “What’s a vet?”

“It’s a Twoleg that helps animals that are hurt or sick,” said Shyra, licking blood off her claws. “It’s not the most fun place to be, but at least the vet helps us.”

“Eh…no thank you, our medicine cat will heal my wound,” said Spottedtalon. 

“Each Clan has a cat trained to heal injuries and illnesses,” Mintwhisker explained. “They use herbs to create medicine.”

“Wow, that sounds much better than going to the vet,” said Taco. 

“Yeah,” Nacho agreed. “The last time my Twolegs took me there, they cut off my…” 

“Anyways, thank you all again, so much,” Taco quickly interrupted his brother. “You didn’t have to do this for us…but I’m glad you did.”

“It’s the least we could do to repay you back for helping us with Rambo,” said Newtstripe.

“You all aren’t bad, for strays,” said Shyra. “You were pretty brave, and inspired us all to join in. I never thought I would fight with forest cats!”

“Everyone did great today,” said Mintwhisker. 

“It felt good to bite that dog’s tail,” Taco admitted. 

“Do you want to be a warrior now?” Jasminepaw asked.

Taco shook his head. “It sounds like an exciting life, but I belong here with my Twolegs.” He slowly intertwined his tail with Sophie’s, who purred and blinked affectionately at him.

“We’d best get back home now,” said Mintwhisker, helping Spottedtalon to his paws. “I hope we’ve taught those dogs a lesson.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about them anymore,” Taco purred.

 

Later that day of ShadowClan gathered around in a wide circle as Jasminepaw and Tanpaw stood in the center, their pelts shiny and neatly groomed. Mintwhisker and Paleheart, as beamed with pride as Scorchstar approached their kits. 

“StarClan, I call upon you to look at these two apprentices here,” said Scorchstar. “They have trained hard to learn the ways of your noble code, and shown great bravery earlier today. The time has come for them to receive their warrior names.”

The leader turned to Tanpaw first. “Tanpaw,” he said. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Tanpaw nodded. “I do.”

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I grant you your warrior name. Tanpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Tanleaf. StarClan values your courage and honor, and we welcome you as a full member of ShadowClan.”

“Tanleaf! Tanleaf!” the Clan chanted as the new warrior respectfully licked Scorchstar’s shoulder.

“Jasminepaw,” Scorchstar turned to her. “Do you also promise to uphold the warrior code and protect your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” said Jasminepaw, her voice breaking as she fought to contain her excitement.

“Then from this moment on, you will be known as Jasmineheart,” said Scorchstar. “StarClan values your honesty and bravery, and we welcome you as a full member of ShadowClan."

“Jasmineheart! Jasmineheart!” Newtstripe shouted her new name the loudest of all. Jasmineheart turned and ran to her former mentor, rubbing fiercely up against him. Then, she nuzzled her head against Nojaw’s shoulder.

“Thank you both,” said Jasmineheart, her voice choked with purrs. “You two taught me to be a great warrior.”


	28. Chapter 28

“Nojaw! Nojaw, you won’t believe this!” 

Nojaw sleepily opened one eye as Jasmineheart came running up to him. He groaned under his breath—even though she’d been made a warrior several moons ago, she still acted like an overenthusiastic kit sometimes. 

Nojaw sat up as Jasmineheart skidded to a stop. Newtstripe was coming up behind her. They had just returned from a Gathering, which Nojaw had skipped out on. He’d sprained his paw while hunting, and used it as an excuse to stay in the camp, as Gatherings weren’t exactly his favorite thing. The new-leaf weather had been so lovely lately that Nojaw had decided to sleep outside in the moonlight bathed clearing. 

“Oh, that was some Gathering!” Jasmineheart exclaimed. Nojaw tilted his head, gesturing for her to tell him more.

“Sapstar and Coldstar are both dead!” Jasmineheart blurted out.

Nojaw stared blankly at her. “HUH!?” he grunted loudly.

“Yeah, when we got there, Flarepelt of ThunderClan and Splitgaze of RiverClan were in their places!” Jasmineheart cried. “Except their names are now Flarestar and Splitstar, of course.”

“We were told was a huge battle between ThunderClan and RiverClan,” Newtstripe explained slowly. “Coldstar knocked Sapstar into the river, where he drowned and lost his three remaining lives. Redwing killed Coldstar in revenge, and then Coldstar’s daughter Graydusk clawed out Redwing’s eyes. Splitgaze succeeded Coldstar, of course, because she was deputy, but Redwing could not take Sapstar’s place since he is completely blind now. So StarClan chose Flarepelt to become ThunderClan’s next leader. Their new deputy is Shadefire, her mate. Graydusk has become the deputy of RiverClan.”

Nojaw blinked slowly, trying to take all of this new information in. 

“Yeah, I know, it’s crazy,” said Newtstripe, sitting down and licking his foreleg. “Oh, and it turns out the reason that ThunderClan and RiverClan were fighting was because Swifthawk trespassed on RiverClan’s territory and attacked the medicine cat apprentice, Pebblecreek. ThunderClan says they don’t know why he did it, but anyways, a RiverClan patrol caught him in the act and killed him.”

Nojaw gasped, feeling a sudden rush of joy. It seemed the arrogant warrior had finally got what was coming to him. 

“Yep, looks like we won’t be seeing that piece of fox dung again,” said Newtstripe, who clearly shared Nojaw’s feelings. 

“Ha! ThunderClan must be really weak right now!” 

Nojaw’s fur bristled as Spikepaw went bounding up to Scorchstar. Unfortunately, there would always be cats he would dislike. The leader’s grandson was growing large, and very, very, conceited and obnoxious. He seemed to believe he was the center of ShadowClan because he was the deputy’s son, and had managed to pester Scorchstar into mentoring him. The young cat fluffed out his spiky fur, tilting his head proudly. 

“We should hunt on ThunderClan’s territory, since the prey has been slow to return on our territory since leaf-bare,” Spikepaw told his grandfather. 

“That’s for me to decide,” growled Scorchstar, his tail twitching slightly. Even he seemed to be getting annoyed with Spikepaw. 

Spikepaw shrugged. “I was just making a suggestion,” he said. 

Flamewing came up to her son and licked his ear. “It was a good suggestion,” she said. “Just remember that Scorchstar is in charge.”

“Well of course,” said Spikepaw. “But I think I might become the next leader.” 

Flamewing purred. “I’m sure you will.” 

“You better not,” Jasmineheart growled under her breath, making both Nojaw and Newtstripe snort. Nojaw agreed with her—the last thing ShadowClan needed was another cat like Nightstrike.

 

Over the next few moons, the weather grew warmer, but there was still less prey than usual. The past leaf-bare had been quite bitter, and it seemed as though the forest still hadn’t completely recovered from it. The ShadowClan cats grew hungry and irritable as well. At least they had fared better than ThunderClan, who had been struck by a terrible greencough outbreak that had killed several of their warriors. 

One morning, Nojaw woke up to Quietsnow yelling. Alarmed by hearing the usually soft-spoken medicine cat’s angry voice, he hurried out of the warrior’s den to see her glaring at Waspflight and Slashthroat’s kits, Burrkit and Stingkit. The two of them were sitting outside the medicine den, covered in berry stains and herbs. 

“What were you doing in my den!?” Quietsnow snapped. “You tore the place apart!” 

“We were just curious as to what was in it,” said Burrkit defensively. 

“You didn’t eat anything, did you!?” Quietsnow cried. “There are things in there that could make you sick!”

“No, we didn’t eat any of your stinky medicine,” Stingkit growled.

At that moment, Waspflight came running over, a snarl rising in her throat and her amber eyes glinting furiously. 

“Why are you screaming at my kits!?” she yowled at Quietsnow.

“They got into the medicine den and made a huge mess,” the medicine cat said coolly. 

“Well don’t yell at them!” Waspflight spat. “They’re just kits.”

“They could die if they eat some of this stuff!” Quietsnow cried.

“My kits aren’t stupid. They know not to eat medicine!” Waspflight yowled back.

“You shouldn’t have gone on patrol!” Quietsnow was trembling with anger. “It’s your responsibility to watch your kits!” 

“Well forgive me for not wanting to sit in that hot, crowded den all day!” Waspflight screeched. “Besides, Daycloud said she would watch the kits for me. It’s her fault.” 

“Yeah, she fell asleep,” said Stingkit. 

“Do not let the kits get into my den again!” Quietsnow snarled. “It’s bad enough that we’re low on prey, we can’t be low on medicine too!”

“They heard you—they won’t be doing this again,” Waspflight hissed, protectively wrapping her tail around her kit and leading them back towards the nursery.

“Daycloud! Get up!” she yowled, sticking her head into the entrance.

Daycloud appeared, drowsily shaking her head. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked Waspflight.

“You were supposed to be watching the kits!” Waspflight spat, snarling right in her mother’s face. “They got into Quietsnow’s den and made a mess!” 

Daycloud flinched. “I…I’m so sorry, Waspflight,” she stammered. “I’ve just been so tired, from all the lack of food…”

“Oh, excuses, excuses.” Disgust dripped from Waspflight’s voice. “You’re not watching my kits again! I can’t believe I can’t even trust my own mother.” 

“How dare you talk to your mother like that!?” Robinclaw boomed, marching over to the scene. 

“She deserves it, after she failed to watch my kits,” Waspflight snarled. 

“It’s _your_ duty to watch your kits,” Robinclaw growled.

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to go out and stretch my legs?” Waspflight lashed her tail. For a moment, Nojaw almost expected her to fling herself at her father.

“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t blame this entirely on Daycloud,” said Robinclaw curtly.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Waspflight nudged her kits into the nursery. “Come on, kits, we’re going to take a nap. Everyone is stressing me out.” 

Daycloud hung her head as Robinclaw comfortingly brushed his muzzle against her. He gave a hard glance towards Waspflight as she disappeared into the nursery. Daycloud’s stomach was slightly swollen—she and Robinclaw were expecting more kits. Hopefully, they would be more respectful to their parents than Waspflight.

Nojaw made his way over to Quietsnow’s den. Peering in, he saw the medicine cat scooping up pawfuls of herbs and trying to sort them back into their original places. He walked in and picked up some berries with his claws.

“Thanks, Nojaw. You can put those over there,” said Quietsnow. With a sigh, she said “I don’t know what’s gotten into the younger cats...they’re all so rude and disrespectful.” 

Nojaw nodded in agreement as he helped Quietsnow clean up the den. They’d put back most of the herbs when they heard Scorchstar calling for a Clan meeting. 

_Ugh, what now?_ Nojaw thought as he and Quietsnow headed outside and joined the crowd.

“As you all know, prey has been scarce lately,” said Scorchstar. “Even with the return of warm weather, there still isn’t enough to feed us all.” He looked down from the leader’s tree at his daughter.

“Flamewing, you will lead a patrol into ThunderClan’s territory,” he said. “Take as much prey as you can before they find out you’re there. They’re weak after losing several warriors to a greencough outbreak, and the battle with RiverClan—now is the best time to invade their hunting grounds.” 

_Oh no, not this again,_ Nojaw groaned silently. But his Clan mates had perked up and were murmuring excitedly to each other. Spikepaw was bouncing up and down, unable to contain himself.

“Can I please go, Scorchstar!?” he called up to his grandfather. 

“Yes, but stay close to Flamewing,” said Scorchstar firmly. “Nojaw, Robinclaw, Coalfur, Roughpelt, and Slashthroat—you go too.”

Newtstripe cast a look of sympathy in Nojaw’s direction as Flamewing stood up and signaled with her tail for the patrol to group together. The jawless tom groaned inwardly—how did he get picked to be on a patrol with a bunch of his least favorite cats? 

 

They headed out towards the ThunderClan border, with Spikepaw bounding along Flamewing’s side, as if he were trying to lead the way. 

“Hey, Spikepaw, you best stay back here with me,” Roughpelt mewed. “ThunderClan warriors could come out and attack us at any moment, and you haven’t had any experience battling yet.” 

“I’ll be fine, Father,” said Spikepaw. “I have to learn to fight sooner or later!”

As they crept across the ThunderClan border, a myriad of new smells bathed Nojaw’s tongue. Although he had a bad feeling that this would not turn out well, he had to admit, all these unfamiliar scents were interesting. The trees were taller and the undergrowth was thicker than in ShadowClan’s territory. Nojaw could pick up traces of mice and squirrels that were hidden deep in the vegetation, and he couldn’t help but drool slightly. He tracked down one squirrel that was hiding under a fern, springing at it and crushing its neck with his claws before the creature even had time to react. He buried it to retrieve later, and followed the others deeper into the ThunderClan woods.

“Oof!” Spikepaw cried as he tripped over a vine and crashed to the ground. “How can ThunderClan cats hunt here with so many plants in the way?” he hissed. 

“All the Clans have their own unique ways of hunting,” said Roughpelt. 

At that moment, a startled raven fluttered overhead. Coalfur leaped high into the air and snagged the bird in his jaws. 

“This will feed the Clan well,” he purred, kicking dirt over his catch. 

Slashthroat sniffed the air and swiveled his ears. “There are several ThunderClan warriors nearby,” he whispered. “We need to stay quiet.” 

“Why?” said Spikepaw. “I’m not afraid to fight them!”

Nojaw cuffed the apprentice hard over the head with a paw. Spikepaw hissed furiously, giving Nojaw a furious glare as his neck fur bristled. Then, suddenly, he whirled around as the sound of several paw steps and rustling undergrowth came towards the patrol. 

“Oh, fox dung,” Robinclaw growled. 

Multiple ThunderClan warriors emerged into the clearing, hissing angrily as they saw the ShadowClan intruders. A group of apprentices were there too, staying towards the back of the crowd as if they were nervous. At the head was Flarestar, her ginger and white fur bristling to twice its size as she curled her lip in a furious snarl. 

“Flamewing!” she spat. 

Flamewing arrogantly kinked her tail over her back and sauntered up to the ThunderClan leader. “Why Flarestar, what brings you here?” she said with a mock purr. 

“What are you doing on our territory?” Flarestar demanded.

“What does it look like? We’re hunting,” said Flamewing. “We don’t have a lot of prey in our territory, so we’re just…borrowing some from yours. Got to keep ShadowClan fed, you know?”

Flarestar lashed her tail, unsheathing her claws. “You need to leave now!” she yowled. 

“Or what?” Flamewing narrowed her eyes tauntingly. “Your army of puny apprentices will attack? You know you’re too weak to stop us, since half your warriors have died.” 

Flarestar launched herself at the ShadowClan deputy with an enraged screech. Nojaw’s blood grew hot with the familiar rage of battle as the clearing exploded with hissing, yowling cats. He unsheathed his claws and leaped at Flarestar, who had Flamewing pinned down on her back and was biting deeply into her shoulder. Nojaw slammed into the ThunderClan leader, sending her flying off of Flamewing and rolling through the grass. Nojaw jumped over to Flarestar and stood over the ThunderClan leader. She was quite young for a leader, with an average body build. He could defeat her easily! 

“Get away from my mentor!” Nojaw felt claws slice through his shoulder and jumped away with a surprised screech. A gray and ginger apprentice was standing protectively in front of Flarestar and baring her teeth at Nojaw. He had to admit, he was impressed—the small she-cat hadn’t drawn blood, but her blow had hurt pretty badly. A swipe or two with his claws, however, would probably send her running. Nojaw lunged at the young cat, but suddenly, Flarestar jumped over her apprentice and met him in midair. The two of them rolled around in the grass in a whirl of ginger and white. Nojaw sank his claws deep into the ThunderClan leader’s pelt, furious clawing out tufts of her fur as she latched her fangs onto his shoulder. He managed to flip Flarestar over on her back, pinning her down in the grass. 

Suddenly, he felt teeth clamp down on his ear. With a howl of pain, Nojaw turned to see a black and ginger apprentice jumping away from him, hissing and spitting out blood from the wound she’d just left on him. He felt two more cats jump onto his back from behind, and the sting of their claws and fangs. He lashed out at the black and ginger she-cat. She shrieked and fell over as blood sprayed up from her side. But then, in a flash, the apprentice was back up on her paws, and flung herself at Nojaw. He soon found himself buried under a pile of apprentices, who sent him toppling into the grass as they bit and clawed at him. 

_Wow, this is embarrassing,_ Nojaw thought. _I’m being defeated by a bunch of cats that are just out of the nursery._

Out of the corner of his eye, though, he could see that his Clan mates weren’t faring much better. They were outnumbered by the ThunderClan warriors—Flamewing and Coalfur were struggling under two toms, Robinclaw was rolling around in the grass with a she-cat, and another she-cat was slashing at the heels of a fleeing Slashthroat. The skinny tom ran back towards the ShadowClan border, his sleek pelt spattered with blood.

_Coward,_ thought Nojaw contemptuously as he battered at the apprentices. Suddenly, Spikepaw was there, grabbing the gray and ginger she-cat by the scruff and dragging her off of Nojaw. 

“Let go of my sister!” Another apprentice, this one gray and white, lunged at Spikepaw. He let go of the other apprentice as the gray and white one bit his shoulder. The two she-cats reared up on their hind legs, battering at Spikepaw from both directions. The ginger tom whirled his head back and forth, confused. With a snarl, he lunged forward and bowled one of them over. Spikepaw leaned down to bite her, but suddenly, she flashed out her hind legs and kicked him under the jaw. With a yelp, the spiky-furred apprentice turned and ran the way Slashthroat had gone. The two she-cats chased after him, clawing tufts of fur from his hindquarters. Despite the pain and rage he was feeling, Nojaw couldn’t help but be amused seeing the arrogant Spikepaw flee like a scared kit.

Flamewing tore herself away from a light brown tabby tom and fled towards the border, Coalfur following close behind. Nojaw pushed the apprentices off of him with a great heave, and ran after his deputy. Roughpelt followed his Clan mate as a mottled ginger tom bit him fiercely on his hind leg. The ShadowClan warriors heard pawsteps thundering behind them as they ran for the border, until Flarestar called out, “ThunderClan warriors, retreat!”

The panting wounded ShadowClan cats kept running, the trees and bushes around them melding into a blur as they headed back to the pine forest. Nojaw had never been so happy to smell the familiar, cool scent of the green trees as they crossed the border. There, they stopped, sinking down on their haunches with exhaustion and licking at their wounds. 

“I guess…Slashthroat and Spikepaw….are back at camp,” said Roughpelt in between pants. “We really…underestimated…ThunderClan.”

“That wretched Flarestar,” Flamewing spat. Her bright ginger fur was torn and soaked with blood in several places. 

“Scorchstar is going to be angry at us,” moaned Coalfur. “We failed.” 

“Not yet we haven’t.” Flamewing’s amber eyes glinted. “We’ll just have to try again. Next time, we’ll show ThunderClan that we are stronger than them!”


	29. Chapter 29

“I really hope this plan is worth it,” Newtstripe murmured to Nojaw as they waded through the shallow water near the island. A moon later, they were making another attempt to hunt on ThunderClan’s territory. This time, however, WindClan warriors would be with them. Scorchstar and Olivestar had hung back after the last Gathering had ended, and discussed launching a joint prey raid on ThunderClan. Prey had also been scarce in WindClan’s territory. Flamewing was leading a patrol to meet the WindClan deputy Slickpelt and some of his Clan mates on the island. Nojaw was thankful that he had Newtstripe and Jasmineheart with him this time. 

“Hurry up!” Flamewing ordered the patrol. “A RiverClan patrol could pass by at any moment!” 

They reached the ancient fallen tree, scrambling up and crossing it to the island shore. 

“Is it true that a WindClan warrior’s skeleton lies under this tree?” Spikepaw asked Roughpelt.

Roughpelt shrugged. “I’m not sure. The legend says that when the tree was struck by lightning, it fell on a WindClan cat who led a mutiny against his leader. But who knows if it’s really true? It happened long before any living warrior was born.” 

“Ha, stupid WindClan cat, getting crushed,” Spikepaw snorted. 

“Who are you calling stupid?” A slick-furred light gray tom emerged from the ring of trees, his yellow eyes gleaming and tail lashing.

“Oh, uh…well, I’m sure you’re not stupid,” said Spikepaw sheepishly, darting behind Roughpelt. 

“Hello, Slickpelt.” Flamewing dipped her head to the WindClan deputy. 

“You’re late,” Slickpelt growled. “Anyways, we have a plan for sneaking onto ThunderClan’s territory. Come listen to it.” 

The ShadowClan warriors joined the WindClan cats in the center of the island. It almost looked like a miniature Gathering. The trees seemed very strange and empty without the leaders sitting in them. Nojaw observed the WindClan warriors—he’d never really gotten a good look at them at Gatherings. Their pelts were sleeker and their legs were longer than those of ShadowClan warriors. However, they were about as thin. Nojaw’s stomach rumbled as he sympathized with the hungry looking WindClan cats. 

“Oh, hey Stormypaw!” Jasmineheart walked over to greet a dark gray tabby she-cat. 

“It’s Stormysky now,” the tabby purred. “I just got my warrior’s name a few sunrises ago, and so did Galepaw! He’s Galefrost now.” She nodded to a light gray tabby tom sitting next to her. 

“I’m going to be a warrior soon, too,” said Spikepaw, strutting over to the other young cats with his nose high in the air. “Scorchstar says I’m learning skills faster than any apprentice he’s ever seen!”

“Um, good for you,” said Stormysky curtly.

“Alright, enough chit-chat!” said Slickpelt, signaling with his tail for silence. “Now, here’s what I’m thinking we should do—my warriors and I will hunt in the open strip of land between the ThunderClan and WindClan border. ShadowClan, you go into the forest to hunt, since you’re used to hunting in dark areas. We’ll catch more prey if we spread out. If either group runs into ThunderClan warriors, we can send someone for help.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Flamewing agreed. 

The two deputies led the group along the lakeshore towards the northern ThunderClan border. The ShadowClan and WindClan warriors talked some along the way, exchanging gossip. 

“Hey, you!” said Spikepaw to a gray tabby tom that was quite small. “Are you an apprentice? I haven’t seen you at Gatherings before.”

The WindClan cat shook his head. “No, I’m a warrior,” he said. “My name is Littlestorm. I’m just small.”

“Ha!” Spikepaw sneered with amusement. “You look like you should still be in the nursery!” 

“Don’t make fun of my brother!” A dark brown tabby tom came hurrying up to Littlestorm’s side, bristling and hissing at Spikepaw.

“Spikepaw!” Roughpelt called sternly to his son. “Save the insults for a battle!”

“No one ever wants me to have any fun,” Spikepaw grumbled under his breath as they approached the border. The WindClan warriors went off to where the forest gave away to the foothills of their territory, while the ShadowClan warriors headed into the forest.

“Man, it stinks in here,” said Spikepaw, crinkling his nose. “What do ThunderClan warriors eat that makes them smell so bad?”

“Shut up!” Newtstripe snarled through gritted teeth. “You’ll attract them all here with your loud voice.”

The silence was broken again a few moments later by a yelp from Waspflight. 

“I stepped on a thorn,” she hissed, raising her paw to her teeth to pull it out. 

Nojaw rolled his eyes. Waspflight just had to have insisted on coming, too. She’s proven to be a very restless queen, often joining patrols while leaving others to watch her badly behaved kits. 

Fortunately, after that, no one else spoke. They padded as quietly as they could, trying not to step on any twigs or rustle any bushes—although that proved to be a very difficult task, as they were everywhere. A slight breeze brought the scent of a pigeon to Nojaw. He spotted the gray bird hiding in a clump of gorse. He gestured for Newtstripe to wait outside the bush while he circled around to the back. With a yowl, he flushed the startled pigeon out. Newtstripe leaped up and quickly caught it in his jaws. A shrill squeak split the air—everyone turned to see Spikepaw beaming as a fat squirrel dangled limply from his mouth. 

“Keep up the good work, everyone,” said Flamewing. 

However, a few moments later, a noise rang out in the near distance. Nojaw flattened his ears—there was no mistaking the angry yowling of Flarestar. 

“They’ve been caught _already?_ ” Waspflight spat. 

“Keep hunting, everyone,” Flamewing instructed. “They’ll distract the ThunderClan patrol for us.”

Suddenly, Spottedtalon bristled and twitched his ears. “I hear another patrol coming this way!” he hissed. 

Flamewing sighed. “Fine, everyone, follow me, let’s go help the WindClan warriors.”

Carrying what little prey they’d been able to catch, they headed towards the sound of Flarestar’s booming voice, which was quickly growing louder and more furious. Newtstripe and Spikepaw hid their kills under a bush, and then followed their Clan mates as they burst out of the forest into the flat, grassy hunting grounds. Nojaw was surprised, but relieved to see that the only ThunderClan cats there were Flarestar and her apprentice. 

“What’s going on!?” Flarestar cried. The leader whipped her head around as the ShadowClan cats came into view.

“Our Clans are hungry,” said Flamewing, coming to stand beside Slickpelt. Both deputies sneered mockingly at Flarestar.

“We’re going to make sure they’re fed no matter what,” Flamewing continued. Your Clan has more prey than it needs, so we’re going to hunt here.” 

“No you’re not!” Flarestar snarled. “Morningpaw, find Shadefire’s patrol!”

Her apprentice ran to leave, but was suddenly blocked by Roughpelt and Spottedtalon.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Flamewing leered. “Warriors, attack!”

Nojaw hesitated—this was hardly a fair fight, as there were only two ThunderClan cats there. He and the others stood around awkwardly, watching as Flarestar and Flamewing flew at each other just as they did last time. Morningpaw shrieked as Slashthroat ran past her and clawed her haunch. 

“Morningpaw, fight!” Flarestar yowled as she struggled underneath Flamewing. “Show them what I’ve taught you!” 

Morningpaw stood there trembling for a second, and then jumped at Slashthroat, gripping his neck with her forelegs and biting down hard on his shoulder. To Nojaw’s amazement, the tom yowled and collapsed to the ground. Morningpaw battered his stomach with her hind legs. Meanwhile, Flamewing had Flarestar pinned firmly down on her back. 

“Let’s see if StarClan really did give you nine lives!” Flamewing hissed, spreading her fangs and diving towards Flarestar’s neck. Suddenly, Morningpaw let go of Slashthroat and ran towards the ShadowClan deputy, flying into her and knocking her off of Flarestar. The young apprentice stood bravely in front of her mentor, her gray and ginger fur spiked up as she hissed menacingly at Flamewing.

“Ha! You’re strong, for a puny little thing,” Flamewing sneered. “I didn’t know ThunderClan was training kits nowadays.” 

“I’m seven moons old!” Morningpaw yowled defiantly. 

“Oh yeah? You still look like a stupid baby kit,” Waspflight jeered as she came over to Flamewing’s side. Then, the two she-cats lunged at Morningpaw. Nojaw almost leaped forward to intervene, but quickly stopped, reminding himself which side he was on. 

“No!” Suddenly, Flarestar was there, jumping in front of Morningpaw. The ThunderClan leader screamed as Flamewing and Waspflight sank their claws and teeth deep into her pelt, spraying blood across the grass in a wide radius. Nojaw and Newtstripe exchanged a horrified look.

“Oh StarClan, they’re going to kill her!” Jasmineheart whispered. 

“Don’t worry. She has nine lives, remember?” Tanleaf mumbled to his sister. 

Suddenly, a furious yowl sounded from nearby. Everyone turned to see Shadefire quickly approaching with a patrol behind him.

_Now this is more like it!_ Nojaw thought as he unsheathed his claws. He launched himself at the ThunderClan warriors, grateful for a proper battle. Nojaw recognized a tabby that came running at him—it was Swifthawk’s old apprentice Burningpaw, now Burningwind. At his side was a white she-cat. They both went running at Nojaw, who met them with his claws outstretched. He matched them blow for blow, although after a while it became hard to keep up with both of them. He managed to claw a good-sized gash on the she-cat’s shoulder, sending her sprawling in the grass. As Burningwind sprang at him, Nojaw crouched down low and head-butted his opponent’s chest, which made him stagger backwards. Nojaw raked his claws across the ThunderClan tom’s orangey-brown tabby pelt. He cried out and fell over as long, bloody marks appeared in his fur. 

Nojaw turned to see the WindClan warrior Littlestorm struggling from under a ginger ThunderClan tom. He ran over and slashed at the warrior's haunches until he let Littlestorm go. With a snarl, the ThunderClan cat fled and ran over to help Morningpaw, who had been pinned down by Waspflight. 

“I had it under control,” said Littlestorm irritably as he got to his paws and spat out a tuft of bloody ginger fur. “But thank you, anyways.” 

Littlestorm ran forward and slashed at the side of another ThunderClan apprentice. She yelped and fell over in the grass.   
“Dewpaw!” Morningpaw shrieked. She leaped at Littlestorm with a furious snarl, slamming him to the ground. Nearby, Flamewing was struggling under Flarestar and Shadefire. 

Nojaw went to go help her, but then whirled around as he heard a shriek from Jasmineheart. A black she-cat had her pinned. Suddenly, Tanleaf was there, biting down hard on the ThunderClan warriors’ ear until she let his sister go. As the two of them battered at the black cat, Nojaw spotted Burningwind again—this time, he was fighting Newtstripe. Both were standing up on their hind legs—Burningwind had his forelegs wrapped around the ShadowClan warrior’s neck, and was biting deeply into his shoulder. Nojaw ran over and clawed at Burningwind’s back until he let Newtstripe go. Both ShadowClan toms slashed at Burningwind from both directions. Nojaw narrowly avoided a bite from his opponent, feeling satisfied as he raked a bloody tuft of fur from off of Burningwind. 

“RETREAT!” Flamewing’s screech made Nojaw and Newtstripe freeze. Their Clan mates were fleeing into the forest, following the heavily wounded deputy. They followed, feeling half disappointed and half relieved that the battle was over. Nojaw’s injuries burned like fire as they slipped into the shadows of the trees. Spikepaw and Roughpelt grabbed the fresh kill that had been left under the bush as they all hurried towards the lake. The battle cries from the WindClan and ThunderClan cats echoed in their ears as they fled. 

The patrol limped into the ShadowClan camp, bloody and exhausted. 

“You lost _again?_ ” Scorchstar said in a clipped voice as he approached his warriors, his amber eyes hard. 

“There were just…so many…warriors…” Flamewing panted. 

“We did manage to take some prey this time, though,” said Roughpelt. 

Scorchstar snorted. “I guess it’s better than nothing,” he said. “It’s just that I thought you all were trained better!”

The ShadowClan leader then rounded on Waspflight. “While you were away, your kits made dirt in my den!” 

“We did not!” That indignant cry came from Stingkit, who was over by the nursery with Burrkit. “Scorchstar is lying!” 

“You did too!” Daycloud came over and growled at them. Turning to Waspflight, she added, “And when Darkbriar caught them doing it, they called her an old fleabag!” 

“That…that was…very wrong of you, kits,” said Waspflight, her voice cracking as she tried to hide her obvious amusement. 

“Waspflight!” Scorchstar snapped. “From now on, you will not leave this camp until your kits are apprentices. Understood?”

“That’s not fair!” Waspflight spat. “I shouldn’t have to be cooped up all day!”

“If you didn’t want to be confined to the camp, you shouldn’t have had kits!” Scorchstar spat. 

Nojaw walked away from the arguing and headed over to Quietsnow’s den. The medicine cat was already gathering herbs together to treat the injured warriors. Nojaw lay down in a sunny patch near the entrance, welcoming the warmth on his sore muscles. Newtstripe and Jasmineheart joined him. 

“I hope Scorchstar doesn’t order anymore invasions of ThunderClan after this,” Newtstripe muttered, licking a wound on his shoulder. “It’s just not worth it.” 

“Well, at least we got to practice fighting,” said Jasmineheart. “Did you see me and Tanleaf fight Cricketleap—that black she-cat?” 

Newtstripe nodded. “You did very well.” 

The tabby warrior sighed and lay down on one side. Nojaw did the same as his friend, letting out a slow, exhausted breath as Quietsnow came out and dabbed at their bloody pelts with wads of cobwebs. Nojaw closed his eyes, hoping that he’d never have to see another ThunderClan cat again.


	30. Chapter 30

The frost covered grass crunched under Nojaw’s paws as he walked across the camp. A heavy sense of dread weighed him down—leaf-bare was arriving early, and considering how chilly it already was, it could be even harsher than the last. Up above, the sun shone through a small hole among the dark gray clouds. 

Nojaw’s mood lifted slightly when he heard tiny mews coming from the nursery. Daycloud was bringing her new kits outside for the first time. She and Robinclaw had been blessed with a litter of three. One of them, a light brown tabby tom named Sagekit, pounced on a leaf, while his two sisters hung back, wary about their new surroundings. Honeykit was a beautiful golden tabby, and Briarkit was a dark brown tabby. Robinclaw had named her after Darkbriar, who had passed away recently.

Flamewing began to round up warriors for a morning patrol. She chose Nojaw, Newtstripe, Roughpelt and his new apprentice Stingpaw, and Spikepaw…who was now Spikefire. Scorchstar had made him a warrior after he’d chased away a pair of curious Twoleg kits that had come near the camp. Nojaw hardly considered it a brave feat; he had the feeling that maybe Scorchstar just wanted an excuse to not have to mentor his disrespectful grandson anymore. Bounding up alongside Spikefire was Waspflight’s son Burrpaw. He’d originally been given to Coalfur to mentor, but Burrpaw had claimed that Coalfur was “boring” and insisted on being Spikefire’s apprentice until Scorchstar had finally given in to his will. 

Upon leaving the camp, Nojaw and Newtstripe exchanged irritated looks as Burrpaw and Stingpaw began bickering. 

“Quit nipping my tail!” Burrpaw snapped at his sister. 

“I’m not!” growled Stingpaw. But the minute Burrpaw turned away, she sharply nipped the tip of his tail. Burrpaw whirled around with a snarl, jumping on Stingpaw and sending the two of them tumbling into a holly bush. 

“Hey!” Roughpelt barked, diving into the dark green leaves and pulling Stingpaw out by her scruff. “This is no time to be fighting! We’re on patrol!” he hissed sternly. 

“She started it!” Burrpaw whined as he came out and pulled a thorn from his brown tabby fur. 

“I don’t care who started it!” Flamewing snapped from the front of the line. “Both of you will stay close to your mentors and be quiet!” 

The apprentices made faces at each other as the patrol headed towards the ThunderClan border. They’d given up trying to take prey from the territory, even though it still ran scarce in their own. Nojaw hoped that it would be plentiful in the coming seasons. 

“Hey, Burrpaw,” Spikefire whispered to his apprentice. “There’s a finch just behind that rock…see if you can sneak up on it.” 

The young brown tabby tom crept in the direction Spikefire pointed him in, crouching and carefully placing his paws on the ground. He disappeared behind a large rock, and a few moments later, the finch went fluttering upwards, chirping in a panic. Burrpaw jumped up at it, but missed. Suddenly, Spikefire went soaring through the air, spreading his jaws and crunching down hard on the small bird. It let out a shrill cry as Spikefire landed on his paws. He then shook the finch violently, and it fell silent. 

“Wow! That was awesome!” Burrpaw cried. 

Nojaw’s fur prickled. Even he wasn’t that brutal when hunting prey. For the first time, he noticed how large Spikefire had gotten. His amber eyes gleamed as he shook his thick, spiky ginger coat. 

“Now that,” he rumbled in a voice that was now quite deep, “Is how you kill a bird.” 

The patrol continued on until they’d reached the border. As he left a mark, Nojaw could see a clearing in the near distance. A group of cats were there, watching two apprentices train. Flarestar was among them—Nojaw could feel the burn from her glare even from far away as she noticed the ShadowClan cats. 

“Spikefire, can I go over and fight those apprentices?” asked Burrpaw.

“Don’t be toad-brained!” Flamewing spat. “You’d be far outnumbered. They’d kill you in an instant.” 

“And we never start a battle for no reason,” Roughpelt added. 

“Well, we _could_ goad them into coming over here,” said Spikefire, his eyes glinting as he slowly unsheathed his claws. 

_Go ahead, do it,_ Nojaw dared him silently. _I want to see the ThunderClan warriors tear off your arrogant pelt._

Flamewing opened her mouth, as if to protest, but her voice was drowned out by a loud booming noise. The ground trembled—the patrol whirled around, and to their horror, saw four large dogs barreling towards them, barking hysterically at the sight of several cats. The patrol scattered in all directions. Nojaw and Newtstripe stuck together as they leaped away from the snapping jaws of a big, fat yellow dog. They kept running until they saw a briar patch. Quickly, they slipped between the branches, wincing as the thorns clawed at their fur. 

“Okay, I think we’re safe,” Newtstripe panted. “I doubt the dogs can get through here.” 

The two of them crouched in the brambles, trying to breathe quietly. They could still hear the dogs howling from nearby. Nojaw slid out his claws, wishing he could kill those filthy creatures. 

Suddenly, the barking became mingled with the screeching of cats. 

“Oh StarClan, they’re attacking the ThunderClan warriors!” Newtstripe whispered, his eyes widening in horror.

They lay still, listening to the cacophony of yowling and snarling. After a while, two of the dogs went running past the briar patch, covered in bloody claw marks. Suddenly, a high-pitched screech of pain split the air.

Nojaw pushed his way through the briar, trying to get back out into the open. 

“Nojaw, don’t!” Newtstripe hissed. “You’ll get yourself killed.”

But Nojaw wasn’t listening—fury pulsed through his veins as he struggled free from the thorns and went running for the ThunderClan border. Images flashed in his mind, of Aspenpaw’s limp body being flung around by dogs. He burst into the clearing, just in time to see a pale gray tabby apprentice lying at the base of an aspen tree, as if she were hurt. 

“Cloverpaw!” The other apprentice, a light brown tabby tom, came scrabbling down the trunk of the tree to help his Clan mate, just as a massive black and tan dog dove on top of the little gray cat…

Nojaw was there in a flash, launching himself at the dog’s side and clinging on tight with his claws. The startled dog jumped away from Cloverpaw and whirled around to snap at Nojaw, who pushed off of the beast and landed squarely on its paws. The ShadowClan warrior growled savagely, ordering the dog to come to him instead. The beast thundered towards him; he stood up on his hind legs, slashing its nose with a powerful blow. The dog shrieked as blood sprayed out from its muzzle.

“Get out of the forest, you slobbering brute!” Suddenly, Newtstripe was there, running over to the dog and biting down hard on its foreleg. With an agonized howl, it turned and ran, disappearing into the woods. Meanwhile, the ThunderClan warriors had a white dog with black spots cornered against a bush, snarling warningly as their fur fluffed up to twice their size. With a whimper, the dog turned and ran the way the other one had gone. 

Nojaw sank down on his haunches, breathing a sigh of relief as he licked blood from his claws. He watched as the tom apprentice helped Cloverpaw get to her paws. Her leg was bleeding, and she was shaking, but other than that she seemed to be okay. She turned to face Nojaw with wide green eyes.

“Why did you help us?” Shadefire came over to Nojaw and Newtstripe, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as his neck fur bristled. 

“Nojaw doesn’t like dogs,” Newtstripe explained. “They’re sort of the reason why he doesn’t have a jaw. We heard the commotion, and he went to help, so I followed.” 

“Th-thank you,” stammered Cloverpaw, still staring at Nojaw. “The dog would have killed me had it not been for you.”

Nojaw nodded. 

“Thank you both, very much,” said Flarestar, dipping her head to the two ShadowClan warriors. 

“We better get back before the others wonder where we are,” Newtstripe said to Nojaw. “If Scorchstar finds out that we helped ThunderClan warriors, he’ll claw our fur off!”

They hurried back over the border, where they picked up the scents of their Clan mates. It seemed the rest of the patrol had run back to the camp. 

“That was stupid, Nojaw!” Newtstripe spat. With a sigh, he said, “You’re lucky that I’m stupid too and decided to help you. But please, think before you do something like that next time."

 _“Traitors!”_ Both toms nearly jumped out of their fur as Spikefire burst out of a bush. He lashed his tail, his eyes glowing venomously. 

“I saw it all! You helped the ThunderClan warriors!” he spat. 

“We saved a defenseless apprentice,” growled Newtstripe, his tabby fur bristling. 

“She isn’t in your Clan! You are both traitors!” Spikefire hissed. “Just wait until I tell Scorchstar!” 

“Are you going to tell your grandfather that you ran from the dogs while we fought them?” said Newtstripe coolly. 

Spikefire went quiet. 

“Go ahead and report us to Scorchstar,” said Newtstripe. “Everyone on the patrol had fled to safety by the time we were fighting the dogs. It’s not like we chose to help the ThunderClan warriors over our own Clan mates. You could have joined us in driving those beasts out of the forest, but instead you got scared and ran.” 

“You stinking _rat,_ ” Spikefire snarled. “Fine then, I’ll keep quiet. But I’ll be watching you two—you are disloyal to ShadowClan, and I won’t hesitate to report you the next time you betray us!”

The huge ginger tom turned and stormed off. 

“That fox-hearted piece of dung,” Newtstripe hissed under his breath. “I hope one day, a dog chews his head off.” 

Nojaw nodded in agreement. He wondered what ShadowClan had done to deserve such a terrible cat as one of their warriors.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is animal cruelty in this chapter, so if that's not your thing, read with caution.

“Great StarClan, it’s beautiful out today!” 

Nojaw was out for a walk with Newtstripe and Jasmineheart. Many moons had passed since he and Newtstripe had battled with the dogs. They’d seen Cloverpaw and her brother at a Gathering a while ago, now as warriors named Cloverheart and Hazelsun. All the Clans had been faring well these past seasons. This leaf-fall was much more beautiful than the last—Nojaw and his friends were striding along the ThunderClan border, watching vibrant red and orange leaves fall from the trees in the nearby territory.

“Do you think what Flarestar said at the last Gathering was true, about a fifth Clan out there?” said Jasmineheart. 

“Well, RiverClan claims it to be true as well,” said Newtstripe with a shrug. “So I guess DawnClan does exist.” 

“It’s just so wild of a story,” said Jasmineheart. “Some giant animal called a “bear” invading ThunderClan’s camp, that warrior Lichentail coming back when all of ThunderClan thought she was dead and her getting nine lives and becoming the leader of her own Clan…” Jasmineheart’s violet eyes were filled with bewilderment. “I couldn’t even imagine having to train a whole group of cats who know nothing about Clan life!” 

“Well, you did a pretty good job with Briarheart,” said Newtstripe. Jasmineheart had mentored Daycloud and Robinclaw’s daughter, who had recently gotten her warrior name. Tanleaf had mentored Briarheart’s brother, Sagetail, while their sister, Honeyripple, had trained under Quietsnow to become a medicine cat.

“She grew up so fast,” said Jasmineheart with a bittersweet sigh. “She’s so quick and clever…but I’ll always see her as a little apprentice ready to start training.” 

“Well, Paleheart is having new kits soon,” Newtstripe reminded her. 

“Oh, yes!” Jasmineheart bounced excitedly. “I hope at least one of them is a she-cat—I love Tanleaf, but I’ve always wanted a sister. I’d love to mentor one of them, but I doubt I’ll be chosen, since they’ll be my siblings.”

“I wouldn’t mind having another apprentice,” said Newtstripe. 

“Although you’re getting kind of old,” Jasmineheart teased. 

“Hey, I’m not an elder yet,” Newtstripe retorted. 

“Your muzzle is graying,” Jasmineheart told him.

“Wh-what!?” Newtstripe exclaimed. “How noticeable is it!?” 

Before Jasmineheart could answer, a thin, wailing cry made all three of them freeze in their tracks. The sound came again—Nojaw had heard it before, from prey that had just been caught, but it was much more prolonged. His blood ran cold as the desperate scream came again—some animal was in terrible pain. 

“That sounds like a cat!” Newtstripe’s voice was choked with fear as they took off running. Nojaw’s heart pounded as the cries grew louder and clearer—that was definitely a cat, although he’d never imagined any cat could make such a horrible noise. 

Suddenly, Nojaw tripped over a black shape on the ground, landing and skidding through the grass. As he got to his paws, he gasped as he recognized the cat lying there. 

“Coalfur!?” Newtstripe cried. 

The ShadowClan warrior lay on his side, covered in multiple ghastly wounds. There was something unnatural about them—instead of ragged bite marks, they were very neat slashes and punctures. One of Coalfur’s ears had been sliced off, and so had his tail. Nojaw stood there trembling—what kind of animal had done this? 

“Coalfur, what happened?” Jasmineheart’s voice trembled as she put a comforting paw on the black tom’s shoulder. “What did this to you?” 

Coalfur looked up at his Clan mates, his amber eyes glazed over in agony. 

“Two…legs…” he said as a thin stream of blood trickled out of his mouth.

“Twolegs!?” Newtstripe gasped. “They’re on our territory!?”

“Near…the…old…Twoleg den,” Coalfur choked. “They…caught me…and hurt me….they had this long…sharp thing…kept…cutting me, with it….I got away, and ran...somehow…oh …it hurts so much.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to the medicine cats,” said Newtstripe. 

Nojaw and Jasmineheart helped heave Coalfur onto Newtstripe’s back, and they hurried back to camp. Coalfur let out a weak, kit-like mewl as they reached the thorn tunnel. 

_“Quietsnow! Honeyripple!”_ Newtstripe yowled as they rushed into the clearing. All the warriors came running, gathering around and gasping in shock as Newtstripe lowered Coalfur to the ground.

“Coalfur!” Spottedtalon pushed his way through the crowd, crouching down at his brother’s side. 

“Coalfur, look at me!” the mottled tom yowled. “You’re going to be alright…just wait, the medicine cats are coming.”

“Spot…ted….tal…on,” Coalfur’s voice was growing faint. His whole body began to shudder as Quietsnow and Honeyripple ordered everyone out of the way. 

“Spottedtalon, I need you to move,” said Quietsnow. 

Briarheart came over and gently nudged Spottedtalon away as Quietsnow and Honeyripple crouched over Coalfur. 

“Great StarClan,” Honeyripple breathed, her amber eyes round with disbelief. “What happened!?”

Coalfur choked. His paws twitched, and then went still. A thick silence fell over the camp. After several long moments, Quietsnow looked up from Coalfur, her gray eyes heavy. 

“He’s gone,” she said quietly. 

“NO! COALFUR!” Spottedtalon tore away from Briarheart and shoved the medicine cats aside. “Coalfur, please, wake up!” he wailed, shaking his brother’s body with his forepaws.   
Nojaw’s heart seemed to sink down from his chest and deep into the ground. He remembered waking up in the medicine den just after he’d lost his jaw, and the agony that had gripped him when Quietsnow told him that Aspenpaw was dead. 

“Coalfur, no!” Spottedtalon buried his face into his brother’s black fur. Robinclaw, who had mentored Coalfur, came over and gently licked at the limp tom’s bloody pelt. 

Jasmineheart let out a sob and buried her face into Newtstripe’s shoulder. Everyone stood there, staring at their dead Clan mate, too stunned to say anything. Even Waspflight, Slashthroat, and their kits—now named Burrclaw and Stingtail-- looked mortified. However, Spikefire was lashing his tail, a growl rising in his throat. 

“We must find the creature that did this and kill it!” he yowled.

“When we found Coalfur, he…he said that Twolegs did this,” said Newtstripe. The tabby warrior swallowed and continued. “He said that a group of them captured him, and they…they all were hurting him.” 

“I’LL TEAR THEIR THROATS OUT!!” that savage howl came from Spottedtalon. Nojaw jumped back, hardly recognizing his Clan mate as he raised his head. Spottedtalon’s eyes seemed to be on fire, his ears pinned back against his skull and his lips pulled back to reveal all his teeth. “I’ll _shred_ them!”

“Hold on!” That bark came from Scorchstar, who had been watching from the back of the crowd. He shouldered his way through, coming to stand beside Coalfur. He gazed down at the fallen warrior for a few moments, then closed his eyes and sighed. 

“We need to have a plan first, if we’re going to consider getting revenge on the Twolegs,” said Scorchstar. “If a fox or a badger had done this, I’d be sending out a patrol to get rid of it right now, but Twolegs…they’re far cleverer and more powerful than any other creature. I…I don’t know how to organize an attack on them.”

Scorchstar’s shoulders sagged, his amber eyes staring at the ground as he opened them again. For the first time, the ShadowClan leader seemed defeated. Nojaw realized that he was starting to look and sound fairly old. 

“So what if they’re Twolegs?” Spikefire spoke up. “We must avenge Coalfur! Are we really going to let them get away with this?” 

Yowls of agreement rang out around the camp. 

“Let’s kill those fox-hearted Twolegs!”

“We’ll make them pay!” 

Spottedtalon screamed the loudest of them all, lashing his tail. Nojaw himself was feeling restless, unsheathing his claws and letting out a low growl. 

“Alright!” Scorchstar shouted. “We will get our revenge…just, please, let me think of a plan first.” 

 

The horizon glinted red as the sun sank below it, casting long purple shadows through the pine forest. Scorchstar led his warriors in a silent, single file line as they headed for the clearing where the Twolegs were. An earlier patrol had found their location, given away by the scent of smoke from a small fire they’d created. The ShadowClan warriors walked with an eerie calmness, although their smoldering eyes and unsheathed claws gave away their fury. 

As they approached the clearing, Nojaw realized with a jolt that this was the same place where the dogs had attacked him and Aspenpaw so long ago. He scented the air, seeing if he could detect any dogs, but there were none. He then looked over to Newtstripe and Jasmineheart. Their eyes shone with a hard confidence. Nojaw nodded to them, and then crouched in the undergrowth, observing the Twolegs. There were three of them, hanging around their fire. One of them, which had a thick growth of fur on the bottom of its face, poked at it with a branch while the other two sat on strange four legged objects. One had a white stick in its mouths that was giving off tiny plumes of smoke, while another appeared to be drinking something from a shiny cylindrical object. They were talking with each other, their voices harsh and sneering. From nearby, Nojaw saw Spottedtalon claw at the ground, a steady growl rising from his throat. The Twoleg that was tending to the fire turned and disappeared into a small den made from a slick green pelt.

“Now!” Scorchstar jumped out of the bushes and ran to the Twolegs, his warriors following close behind. They formed a half-circle around the ones by the fire, hissing loudly and spiking up their pelts. Spottedtalon and Robinclaw went over to the den where the scruffy-faced Twoleg hid. Another of them got to its feet with a jolt, dropping the shiny object to the ground. The other one stood up as well, looking wide-eyed at the cats. Its companion let out a noise that sounded like amusement. Then, it grabbed the nearby branch, and swung it at the warriors. They scattered, and then regrouped, running at the Twolegs from opposite sides. They were wearing thick pelts to shield them from the chilly evening air—however Nojaw spotted an exposed area of flesh just above the foot of one of them. He raked his claws across the Twoleg’s pale skin. It howled in pain and hobbled backwards. The scruffy-faced Twoleg came out of the den, confusedly looking around. Suddenly, Spottedtalon and Robinclaw launched themselves into the air, each clinging to a leg. The Twoleg screamed and fell backwards against the makeshift den, causing it to collapse. 

“You'll pay for killing my brother!” Spottedtalon yowled, clamping his fangs down hard on the Twoleg’s leg, managing to penetrate the dark blue pelt covering it. Meanwhile, Robinclaw went for the Twoleg’s face, swiping his claws across the exposed skin. Another Twoleg went running to help his screaming friend, but then, several warriors jumped up and clung to its legs, sending it toppling face first to the ground. The third one, who was swinging around the branch, was shaky and unsteady on its legs. The warriors quickly toppled it; Nojaw went for its face, but the Twoleg shielded it with its arms. Newtstripe gave its paw a vicious bite, causing it to flail and allowing Nojaw and Jasmineheart to get at its face. Nojaw wildly ripped at its skin, relishing the spray of blood and the wails of agony from the Twoleg.

The Twoleg by the den managed to shake Spottedtalon and Robinclaw off of his legs, sending them flying. Roughpelt ran over to help Spottedtalon to his paws, but suddenly, the Twoleg lashed out with its foot, kicking Roughpelt over on his side. Before the warrior could spring back up, the Twoleg stomped down hard on his hind leg, resulting in a sickening crunch. Flamewing went streaking across the clearing towards her mate, her face twisted into a savage snarl. 

BANG!

Nojaw froze as an unbelievable scene unfolded before him. Flamewing’s head seemed to explode—a massive cloud of blood and bits of flesh went flying up into the air as the ShadowClan deputy fell over on her side. There was a huge, gaping hole in her head, in which blood poured copiously from. For a moment, the entire clearing was silent as everyone stared at Flamewing’s limp body. Nojaw’s legs trembled as he fought to stay standing after what he’d just seen…he looked around, seeing that one of the Twolegs was standing on the other side of the clearing. It was holding a long, straight object that was pointed at Flamewing. The silence was then shattered by an unearthly yowl that seemed to shake the air. Scorchstar became a flash of ginger as he raced at the Twoleg. The ShadowClan leader sprang several tail-lengths in the air, soaring right at the creature’s face. 

BANG!

Scorchstar’s head burst open in midair. He dropped to the ground like a stone, blood spewing from a hole between his eyes, which stared sightlessly up at the darkening sky.


	32. Chapter 32

For another long moment, there was more silence. Then, the clearing exploded once more into screeching and yells from the Twolegs, now louder than ever. The one that was holding the deadly stick let out a furious yowl as another thunderous bang rang out. Nojaw jumped away just as something small and fast zoomed past him, narrowly missing his ear. The Twoleg he’d been attacking had rolled over, crouching and hiding its bloody face as it trembled in terror. The one by the collapsed den stormed across the clearing, kicking cats out its path. Tanleaf chased after the scruffy-faced Twoleg, biting down on the wound that Spottedtalon had created. With an enraged screech, the Twoleg reached down and grabbed Tanleaf by the scruff of the neck, yanking him high into the air. Then, it screamed and dropped the young warrior as Nojaw was suddenly there, slicing at its legs. His long claws tore right through the protective covering, piercing the flesh beneath. Nojaw swiftly avoided a kick from the Twoleg, and then flashed his claws across its leg again.

“NOJAW! LOOK OUT!” 

Suddenly, Jasmineheart went crashing into Nojaw, sending him tumbling away. There was another bang, followed by a cry from Jasmineheart. Nojaw’s heart stopped. He scrambled to his paws, and ran over to the gray she-cat, who was lying still with a hole in her side. Nojaw leapt to the side as another pellet went flying at him from the booming stick. He swiftly grabbed Jasmineheart’s scruff and pulled her away from the center of the clearing. Her flank heaved in and out slowly, and her breathing was weak and ragged. Newtstripe was hurrying over to them, when he was suddenly blocked by the scruffy-faced Twoleg. The tabby warrior leapt into the air, letting out a blood curdling screech with his claws outstretched. Newtstripe clung onto the Twoleg’s pelt with his claws, attempting to bite its throat. Suddenly, the Twoleg pulled out a long, sharp object that gave off a dull glint in the dying light, and plunged it into Newtstripe’s side. 

Nojaw’s paws were carrying him towards the Twoleg before he realized what he was doing. He shot between the Twoleg’s legs in a flash, startling it and causing it to fall over. Nojaw jumped on the Twoleg’s chest, raised his claws, and jammed them straight into its throat. 

“GAARRRGGHH!” A stream of blood went shooting up and hit Nojaw right in the face. The Twoleg grasped at its throat with its paws, choking as even more blood spewed out of its mouth. Then, its head fell back as its body began to jerk and twitch. The Twoleg with the stick had dropped it in shock. It and the other one went running for the trees, knocking one of the four-legged objects into the fire as they fled. Flames steadily spread throughout the object as the scruffy-faced Twoleg’s eyes rolled back in its head.

“The fire’s going to spread! We have to get out of here!” Mintwhisker yowled. He ran over to Jasmineheart and hauled his daughter onto his back. Slashthroat and Waspflight shouldered Scorchstar’s body in between them, while Spikefire carried Flamewing’s. Spottedtalon and Daycloud helped the limping Roughpelt walk. Nojaw hurried over to Newtstripe. The sharp object was still stuck deep in his side, but his flank was rising and falling. Tanleaf came over and helped Nojaw carry the tabby warrior out of the clearing as the roaring fire set the grass ablaze. 

They hurried as quickly as they could back to the camp. Sagetail and Briarheart, who had been assigned to guard the entrance, gasped and bristled at the sight of the bodies. 

“Great StarClan! What…what happened?” Sagetail gasped. 

He wasn’t given a response, as no one was able to find their voice. Paleheart came running over from the nursery as the warriors came through the entrance. The queen let out a heart wrenching wail at the sight of Jasmineheart lying limply across Mintwhisker’s back. She went running to her daughter, desperately licking at her gray fur and begging her to wake up. Jasmineheart’s beautiful violet eyes had turned white. 

Breathing shakily, Nojaw and Tanleaf lowered Newtstripe to the ground. Tanleaf ran over to join his family, while Nojaw sniffed at the wound around the object sticking out of Newtstripe. It looked pretty deep, but was small in diameter. Quietsnow could probably mend it. Nojaw licked his friend’s head …and then realized that Newtstripe’s side wasn’t breathing anymore. His eyes were closed, and he didn’t respond when Nojaw gave him a rough shake. He shook him several more times, but he still wouldn’t wake up. Then, Newtstripe moved slightly. Nojaw jumped back in surprise, only to realize that Robinclaw was there. Newtstripe’s brother pressed down on his side and gripped the end of the sharp object in his teeth. Nojaw nodded—perhaps if it was pulled out, the pain would wake Newtstripe up. Nojaw widened the wound slightly with his claws as Robinclaw tugged at the sharp object. Eventually, it came out, revealing itself to be about half a tail length long. Robinclaw tossed the shiny, blood-covered thing into the grass as blood flowed freely from the hole it had left in Newtstripe. 

Something wasn’t right---he still wasn’t moving. Nojaw yowled to Quietsnow and Honeyripple as they came hurrying out of the den, carrying bundles of herbs, but they ran past him and went over to Roughpelt, who was lying beside Flamewing’s body, his injured leg covered in blood. The big tabby was completely ignoring his bleeding leg, instead licking at the hole in his mate’s head. Scorchstar continued to lie motionlessly. Nojaw didn't think he was on his last life, but it was clear by now that StarClan couldn't heal the terrible hole in his head. Paleheart raised her head to the sky and let out a shrieking, pain-filled yowl. 

Nojaw licked Newtstripe’s wound, trying to get the blood to stop flowing. His heart seemed to crack right in two as he saw Tanleaf and his parents crouching over Jasmineheart’s body. It was going to be difficult to break the news about her to Newtstripe. 

“Nojaw.” Robinclaw’s voice was oddly soft. “Nojaw, he’s gone.” 

Nojaw shook his head, licking Newtstripe’s wound more furiously. His friend’s pelt was still warm, he couldn’t be dead.

Robinclaw sighed heavily. “Nojaw…it’s no use…he isn’t breathing. He’s dead.”

Nojaw ignored Robinclaw, continuing to lick the wound. Eventually, the blood flow died down to small trickle. Only until Newtstripe’s body had grown stiff and cool did Nojaw accept the truth. Still, he kept licking at the hole. 

The four fallen warriors, along with Coalfur, were all buried that night. Nojaw dug furiously at the dirt as he and Robinclaw dug a grave for Newtstripe. He flung bits of loose soil as he tore apart the ground, only stopping when Robinclaw complained of dirt being thrown in his face. The cats all worked until their claws were bloody and their muscles ached. Robinclaw picked up Newtstripe tenderly by the scruff as Nojaw maneuvered his hind legs with his head. The tabby tom looked peaceful, lying there in the small ditch—it was almost like he was sleeping. Nojaw gave him one last gentle shake, but there was no response. He gazed at Newtstripe’s striped black and brown pelt for the last time as he and Robinclaw piled the loose dirt on top of his body. 

As dawn broke a light rain began to fall, steadily becoming a heavy rain. Everyone in the camp was sitting around, bleary-eyed and too exhausted to take shelter. Hardly anyone had spoken a word since the battle had ended—the burial had been coordinated in silence. The faint smell of smoke from the abandoned campsite still lingered in the air, even with the downpour. 

It was Tanleaf who spoke first.

“Who’s going to be our leader now?” he said in a raspy voice. 

Quietsnow looked to the sky, then softly mewed, “I suppose StarClan will choose someone, as they did with ThunderClan when Sapstar died and Redwing couldn’t succeed him.”

“It should be me.” That rumble came from Spikefire, who was getting to his paws. “I’m Scorchstar’s grandson. I should be the one to carry on his legacy.”

“If that is StarClan’s will, then they will tell me,” said Quietsnow. 

“I don’t want to wait,” Spikefire growled. “ShadowClan needs a new leader now. I want to go to the Moonpool today.”

“No!” Quietsnow’s voice became startlingly sharp. “We need to wait until we know what StarClan wants us to do.”

“StarClan would be mad not to choose me,” Spikefire argued. “I’m the best warrior in this Clan.” 

Quietsnow let out a long sigh. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go to the Moonpool to talk to them, and you can come with me. If StarClan has chosen you to be ShadowClan’s next leader, then they’ll grant you your nine lives. If they have chosen someone else, you need to respect their choice.”

“Thank you, Quietsnow,” said Spikefire, suddenly sounding respectful. He dipped his head. “Of course I will understand their choice.”

After a while, the rain let up, and Quietsnow and Spikefire left the camp. Honeyripple stayed behind to tend to Roughpelt's leg. Nojaw headed for the warrior’s den, never having felt so heavy and tired in his life. A few others joined him. As Nojaw curled up in the soft grass that lined the den, he felt around for Newtstripe’s warm pelt…only to remember that his friend wasn’t there.

Nojaw was awakened from a light, troubled sleep by Tanleaf shaking him. 

“Nojaw, wake up.” His voice sounded tight with distress. Nojaw startled awake, following Tanleaf out of the den to see what the matter was. Standing there in the center of the camp, holding his head up high, was Spikefire. Quietsnow sat next to him, looking down at her paws. 

“I was right!” Spikefire boomed. “StarClan _did_ choose me!” 

Mintwhisker’s jaw dropped. “They gave you nine lives?”

“Yes!” Spikefire exclaimed. “ShadowClan, I am honored to serve as your next leader, Spikestar.” 

Mintwhisker looked over at Quietsnow. “Is this true?” he said. 

Quietsnow slowly raised her head. For the first time ever, Nojaw saw terror in the normally calm medicine cat’s gray eyes.

“Yes, it’s true,” she said. “Our ancestors gave Spikestar his lives.” 

“Spikestar! Spikestar!” Burrclaw yowled. He was joined in by Stingtail, Slashthroat, and Waspflight. A few others also began chanting their new leader’s name, but less enthusiastically. Mintwhisker, Paleheart, and Spottedtalon stared ahead with a stunned look on their faces. Tanleaf looked up at Nojaw, his green eyes wide as he trembled, as if he were silently pleading the older warrior to do something. Nojaw looked up to the sky, which was dark with storm clouds. A dead leaf twirled through the air as a cold wind blew through the camp. 

_There’s nothing we can do,_ he thought. _StarClan has abandoned us._


	33. Chapter 33

Spikestar led the ShadowClan warriors across the fallen tree to the island, his head and tail held high. Right behind him was Slashthroat, who he’d appointed deputy. Nojaw picked up on a murmured conversation between Mintwhisker and Tanleaf. 

“What are the other Clans going to think?” Tanleaf whispered to his father.

“Well, Spikestar does fit the qualifications to be leader,” Mintwhisker admitted. “He’s mentored an apprentice, so he could have become deputy. He’s not who I would have chosen, but…perhaps we should give him a chance.”

It had been a quarter of a moon since the battle with the Twolegs. So far, Spikestar had been ordering double patrols to mark the borders, obviously wanting to intimidate the other Clans. 

_How many more battles are we going to have?_ Nojaw thought as they reached the shore. _Haven’t we lost enough warriors?_

“Hey there, Tanleaf!” a she-cat from RiverClan called to him. “Where’s Jasmineheart?”

The look on Tanleaf’s face made the she-cat sink down on her haunches, her eyes widening with horror. As Tanleaf began to explain what had happened, Slasthroat came darting over.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. “Spikestar said very clearly we are not to talk to cats from other Clans!”

“Oh…sorry,” said Tanleaf in a defeated voice. The RiverClan warrior watched him rejoin his Clan mates with a look of bewilderment and concern. 

Tension was rising in the air as everyone realized that ShadowClan had a new leader. Spikestar’s warriors were made to sit away from the other Clans in a tightly packed group as he approached the trees where the leaders spoke and climbed up. Slashthroat walked up to the three other deputies, narrowing his eyes and lashing his tail as he sized them up. 

Looking up into the big tree, Nojaw was startled to see that WindClan had a new leader as well. Stormysky was sitting up in the branches between Splitstar and Flarestar. She’d taken over as deputy when Slickpelt had fallen ill. Olivestar must have just died. Nojaw spotted her brother Galefrost sitting with the deputies. He exchanged uneasy glances with Shadefire and Graydusk as Slashthroat leered at them. 

Spikestar let out a loud yowl, signaling for the crowd below to be quiet. Nojaw’s fur prickled—that was usually done by the eldest leader. 

“Greetings, everyone,” he said, speaking up before the other three leaders could. “I am Spikestar, ShadowClan’s new leader. Unfortunately, tragedy has befallen our Clan. A group of Twolegs were in our territory, and they captured and tortured our warrior Coalfur to death. We got revenge and attacked them. Scorchstar, Flamewing, Newtstripe, and Jasmineheart all lost their lives in the battle. But I managed to avenge them all by clawing out the throat of one of the Twolegs.”

Nojaw flattened his ears to his head as shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd. That was a flat out lie— _he_ had killed that Twoleg!

“Anyways, StarClan has chosen me to succeed my grandfather,” said Spikestar. “He was a great leader who served ShadowClan well for many seasons. But things are going to be a bit different under my rule.” Spikestar narrowed his eyes. “We will be expanding our borders just a little bit. Do not try to stop us, or you will be met with upmost oppression.” 

Angry yowls rang out from all over the island. 

“You can’t do that!” Splitstar hissed, pinning down her ears. 

“I said we’ll only be expanding them slightly,” Spikestar spat, lashing his tail. “You other Clans will be fine. You’ll still have plenty of prey. ShadowClan always suffers the worst during leaf-bare, so I’m trying to keep us fed.”

“That’s not the point!” Stormystar exclaimed. “Those borders have always been the same…it’s against the warrior code to change them!” 

_“It’s against the warrior code to change them,”_ Spikestar sneered mockingly. “Does it look like I care?”

“What kind of leader are you, if you won’t respect the warrior code!?” Flarestar cried. “And how can you talk to another leader that way?” 

Spikestar snorted. “She’s no leader. She’s barely older than an apprentice.” 

“You’re younger than I am!” Stormystar hissed, her dark blue eyes blazing with rage. 

Nojaw exchanged bewildered glances with his Clan mates—this Gathering was getting very bad, very quickly. 

Stormystar attempted to talk next. “I am Stormystar, the new leader of WindClan. Olivestar passed…”

“Hey! I wasn’t finished talking!” Spikestar snapped. 

“How dare you speak to our leader like that!?” Someone from WindClan called out from the crowd. Two gray tabbies were making their way to the front of the crowd, aggressively lashing their tails. 

“Slashthroat,” said Spikestar calmly. “Would you please do something about those two?” 

Slashthroat became a blur of brown and white as he launched himself at the pair of tabbies. Before anyone could even react, he had one of them pinned down. He grabbed her throat and swiftly bit down, spraying several other WindClan warriors with her blood. The island burst into frightened, shocked screams as every cat recoiled at the sight. 

“Creekstripe!” The other gray tabby wailed. He rounded on Slashthroat. “You murderer!” he howled.

Before the WindClan tom could move, however, Slashthroat had already pounced. He landed on the gray tabby, pinning him down in the grass as he writhed and screeched. A black WindClan tom went running to his aid, only to be blocked by Waspflight. Slashthroat’s opponent let out a gurgling scream as his throat was swiftly torn out. 

“Great StarClan!” Shadefire jumped back against the tree the deputies stood by, his black fur spiking up in shock. Galefrost trembled, his pale blue eyes filled with disbelief. Graydusk was crouched to the ground, snarling and lashing her tail. 

“You MONSTER!” Stormystar hurled herself at Spikestar. He nimbly leapt out of the way; Stormystar landed awkwardly on the branch. As she tried to balance herself, he pushed the tabby she-cat from the tree, sending her plummeting to the ground. 

“Stormystar!” Galefrost cried, running to his sister as she crumpled in the grass. 

The island exploded into chaos—Waspflight and the black WindClan tom were slashing at each other, while Burrclaw and Stingtail facing off with another WindClan warrior. Slashthroat and Graydusk were circling each other, savage growls rising in their throats. Flarestar and Splitstar scrambled down from their tree and ran to the fighting warriors, yowling at them to stop. Waspflight jumped at Flarestar, her claws barely missing the ThunderClan leader’s throat. Slashthroat and Graydusk were now writhing on the ground, shrieking furiously as they clawed bloody clumps of fur from each other’s pelts. Spikestar sat in the tree, watching all of this with an amused gleam in his eyes. 

BOOM!

The night lit up in a flash of white light as a lightning bolt zigzagged down from the sky, striking the shore of the lake opposite the island. Every cat went still, staring at the smoldering black spot on the sand. 

“Spikestar, StarClan has commanded you to stop!” Splitstar’s mismatched eyes gleamed as she lashed her black tail. 

“ShadowClan, retreat!” Spikestar ordered, climbing down the tree. “Slashthroat, that means you too!” he called to his deputy, who was starting to slash at Graydusk once again. The muscular gray she-cat knocked him off of her, hissing and spitting out a mouthful of blood. 

“StarClan must be out of their minds to appoint a piece of murderous fox dung like you as leader!” Graydusk snarled at Spikestar.

“Well, they did!” Spikestar snarled back. “Listen closely, everyone. Anyone who disrespects me is going to pay dearly. I hope I’ve made that clear tonight. I am going to make ShadowClan the most powerful Clan around the lake, and there’s nothing any of you can do to stop me!” 

“We will stop you,” Graydusk hissed. “Sooner or later, someone is going to take you down.” 

Spikestar curled his lip contemptuously. “You’ll regret insulting me, Graydusk. Mark my words.” 

Stormystar began to stir from under Galefrost, who had been standing over her protectively. All the leaders and deputies came to stand together, staring menacingly at Spikestar. 

“ShadowClan, we’re leaving!” Spikestar barked.

Quietsnow and Honeyripple hurried over to their Clan mates as the other medicine cats stared after them, stone-faced. 

“StarClan help us,” Nojaw heard a cat whisper as ShadowClan left the island. 

Nojaw staggered alongside his Clan mates as they headed back to the camp. His paws felt numb. He looked up at the sky, where dark clouds had covered the full moon. The night felt black, cold, and empty without Silverpelt twinkling above. 

_I hate you, StarClan,_ Nojaw snarled silently. _How dare you let all this happen?_

When they reached the camp, Spikestar called for everyone to gather around him.

“At dawn, I will send out patrols to have the borders expanded,” he announced. “If anyone tries to stop you, well, you know what to do.”

“We won’t let them stop us,” said Waspflight, sliding out her claws. 

“Spikestar, this is wrong!” Robinclaw exclaimed. “We’ve lost so many cats, the last thing we need is more battles!”

Spikestar’s eye twitched. “I’m sorry, Robinclaw, but for a moment there, it sounded like you were questioning me.”

“I am!” Robinclaw hissed, sliding out his claws. “You’re no leader!” 

“Slashthroat, Waspflight, pin him down,” Spikestar ordered.

The two of them were on top of the dark brown tabby in a flash. Slashthroat grabbed Robinclaw’s throat in his jaws as his Clan mate struggled and cried out.

“Now, Robinclaw, why don’t you rephrase that?” said Spikestar, flicking his tail. “Say that StarClan has chosen me to be the leader, and you have no right to question me.” 

“Spikestar, stop this!” Daycloud cried. Burrclaw and Stingtail pounced on her and held her down. 

“Both of you, tell me right now that I am leader and my word is absolute,” said Spikestar. “Otherwise your throats will be torn out.” 

“Waspflight, please…” Robinclaw pleaded his daughter. 

“Shut up, traitor!” Waspflight hissed, clawing her father across the face. 

“Your power is absolute,” said Daycloud weakly.

“Louder,” said Spikestar. “I can’t hear you.”

“Your power is absolute and we have no right to question you,” Daycloud and Robinclaw said in unison.

“Alright, let them go,” said Spikestar. As Robinclaw and Daycloud got to their paws, the leader fixed his warriors with a piercing glare.

“No one is to question me, or say anything negative about me, unless they want to die,” said Spikestar. “I expect absolute loyalty from all of you. Understood?” 

When he was met with silence, Spikestar yowled, “Understood?” 

“Understood!” Everyone shouted back.

“Good,” said Spikestar. “Also, in case I haven’t made it clear, no one is allowed to leave the camp without my permission. If I notice that anyone is gone, I will immediately send   
Slashthroat and Waspflight out to find you and bring you back.”

Spikestar flicked his tail. “One other thing…Roughpelt, come forward.” 

Roughpelt went limping up to Spikestar, his hind leg that the Twoleg had crushed trailing uselessly on the ground. 

“Yes, my son, what is it?” he asked.

“Roughpelt, you have been a valuable warrior and a good father to me.” Spikestar’s voice had suddenly turned soft. “But Quietsnow has told me that your leg cannot be healed. I’m sorry, but since you can no longer be a warrior, you must leave ShadowClan.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Roughpelt blinked, as if he hadn’t quite heard what Spikestar had said. 

“But…I…I’m going to live in the elder’s den,” Roughpelt stammered.

“There will be no “elders” in ShadowClan anymore,” said Spikestar. “Leaf-bare is coming and we cannot have any soft mouths to feed. Our warriors must remain strong. We cannot waste prey on a cat that just lies there all day, unable to fight or hunt.” 

“No…no…you can’t be serious!” Roughpelt cried. “Where will I go?”

“Wherever you want,” said Spikestar. 

“I can’t fend for myself!” Roughpelt’s voice rose to a panicky cry. “As you said, I can’t hunt with this leg. I’ll starve to death!”

“Oh, surely you can find something to eat,” said Spikestar. “Prey moves slowly in leaf-bare.” 

The solid sincerity in the leader’s voice made every hair on Nojaw’s pelt stand up.

“Spikestar, please, you can’t do this to me!” Roughpelt cried. “I’m your father!”

Spikestar laid his tail on Roughpelt’s shoulder. “I’m not doing this because I want to,” he said. “But I have to.”

“No! I won’t leave!” Roughpelt cried. “I was born in ShadowClan and I’ll die in ShadowClan!”

“Well then,” said Spikestar, now sounding oddly quiet. “Your wish is my command.”

In a flash, Spikestar bowled his father over and pinned him down on his back. Roughpelt screeched and struggled under his son.

“No, please, Spikestar!” he yowled. He clawed at Spikestar’s thick ginger fur, but could hardly move with his limp leg. “Please, have mercy!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick,” said Spikestar. A bone-chilling scream split the air as he plunged his fangs straight into his father’s throat. Roughpelt’s eyes bulged out of his head as his blood sprayed up into Spikestar’s face. Spikestar stepped back, his muzzle stained crimson as he watched his father convulse on the ground. 

“May StarClan light your path,” he said, dipping his head.


	34. Chapter 34

“Everyone, come here for a Clan meeting!” 

Nojaw groaned as he pushed himself up from his nest and stumbled after his Clan mates out of the warrior’s den. Dawn had barely even broken, yet Spikestar was standing in the center of the clearing, lashing his tail. Everyone trudged to over to their leader, their eyes glazed over with exhaustion. All of them had fairly fresh bite and claw marks all over their pelts—in the past few sunrises, as Spikestar had pushed his expansion of the borders, the ShadowClan warriors had been met with fierce opposition from the other Clans. Nojaw licked at a scabbed over bite wound on his foreleg that was starting to bleed again—would they have to fight every day now? 

“We are going to go attack RiverClan now,” said Spikestar. “Graydusk insulted me at the Gathering. She has to die.”

Not daring to question him, his warriors followed him out of the camp. Slashthroat and his family were walking just behind Spikestar, lashing their tails excitedly. Everyone else walked slowly and quietly as they obediently made their way to the RiverClan border. Tanleaf looked quite distressed, his green eyes full of dread as he limped from a wound on his hind leg. 

_This is insane,_ Nojaw thought. He hoped that RiverClan was prepared for a surprise attack. Graydusk was a very tough deputy—perhaps Spikestar would fail to kill her. 

The early morning sky was a deep gray, with just a tiny sliver of pink glowing along the horizon. Everything was eerily quiet—Nojaw couldn’t even hear any prey scuffling around. The edge of the lake lapped silently against the shore as a chilly breeze blew through the warriors’ fur. They reached the border between RiverClan and ShadowClan, which was a grassy area where a large willow tree stood. The air smelled of both Clans, as a RiverClan patrol had hastily marked over after ShadowClan had attempted to extend the border. With a sneer, Slashthroat raised his tail and marked the willow tree, while Waspflight, Burrclaw, and Stingtail marked along the grass, all the way to the bottom of a hillside that led up to RiverClan’s camp. As the ShadowClan warriors reached the top of the slope, Nojaw could hear the river rumbling in the near distance. 

And then, there was a furious, booming snarl. Up ahead, there were five RiverClan warriors running straight at them. One turned back and ran towards the camp, as if to get back up, while the other four charged ahead. Leading the RiverClan patrol was a large ginger and sandy tom named Appleflash, his face contorted in rage and ears plastered back to his head as he charged right towards Spikestar. The ShadowClan leader’s eyes twinkled with wicked delight as he sprang at Appleflash. Within just a few moments, the quiet morning air was filled with the savage roars of battle. A she-cat who Nojaw recognized as Otterflame sprang at him—he jumped to the side and slashed at her haunch. She spun around with a livid screech and jumped at him again. He clawed Otterflame across the face, then ran over to where Tanleaf was struggling with a ginger and white tom named Rowanflame. Tanleaf pushed at the RiverClan warrior’s shoulder, trying to twist out of his grasp. Nojaw slashed Rowanflame across his back, causing him to release his Clan mate. As Nojaw grappled with his new opponent, he saw Appleflash slam Spikestar down on his back. He felt a slight surge of hope—Appleflash was big and strong, maybe he could take one of Spikestar’s lives. 

But that hope dissolved as Spikestar lashed out with his claws and sliced Appleflash from his nose up to one of his ears. The RiverClan tom yowled and jumped back, shaking his head as blood sprayed from his face. Suddenly, there came the thudding of several running paw steps and more thunderous growls. Nojaw peered around Rowanflame, who had his forelegs wrapped around his neck, to see more RiverClan warriors running towards them, led by Graydusk. Spikestar hurried away from Appleflash and made a beeline for the RiverClan deputy. With a roar, Graydusk sprang at him, and the two of them collided into a whirl of orange and dark gray. Nojaw’s attention was snapped away from them as Rowanflame pushed him down on his back. Nojaw gave the tom a hard kick in his stomach, slithering away from him and running over to where Spottedtalon was struggling under two gray and white warriors. Nojaw saw a blur of brown tabby fur running past him—instinctively, he bumped his head against the cat’s shoulder, as he often did to wish Newtstripe good luck in a battle. But it was Burrclaw. The young tom swiped Nojaw across the nose, letting out a hostile hiss before jumping back into the battle. Slightly stunned, Nojaw continued towards Spottedtalon, but before he could reach his Clan mate, Rowanflame caught up to him and slammed him back down to the ground. Nojaw lay there under the RiverClan warrior’s claws, his head spinning as the battle raged on around him. He saw Waspflight slashing at the warrior Brightsplash, who was lying limply on the ground and covered in blood. Burrclaw and Stingtail were savagely ripping into the pelt of a tabby she-cat, while Spikestar and Graydusk continued to writhe on the ground, blood splattering all over the grass around them. Nojaw went limp under his opponent—this is what ShadowClan had come to--just endless fighting and death for no reason other than for Spikestar’s pleasure. Rowanflame grabbed Nojaw by the throat and held him tight, choking him. 

_Please, just bite down and end me,_ Nojaw silently pleaded. _I don’t want to live anymore._

“REEEERR!” 

Upon hearing the loud screech, Rowanflae let go of Nojaw and whipped his head around. Everyone had paused fighting to watch Graydusk, who had flung Spikestar to the ground. She panted, blood dripping from her dark gray pelt as she stood over her limp opponent. Spikestar’s chest and paws were stained crimson, and his eyes were closed. Nojaw held his breath—was he losing a life? 

Graydusk lowered head to Spikestar’s muzzle, as if she was trying to tell if he was still breathing. And then, as quick as a snake, Spikestar whipped his head up, grabbed Graydusk’s throat in his jaws, and bit down hard. 

_“Graydusk!”_ Several RiverClan warriors wailed as a huge burst of blood exploded from their deputy’s neck. Graydusk’s blue eyes bulged out of her head as she let out a sickly gag. She weakly raised a forepaw, as if she were still trying to claw at Spikestar. Then, she went limp in the ShadowClan leader’s jaws.

“NO!” Suddenly, from seemingly out of nowhere, Splitstar lunged at Spikestar, gripping him with her claws and snapping at his throat. Spikestar dropped Graydusk’s body and flung the RiverClan leader off of him. The black she-cat collapsed in a heap, hissing in rage. In a flash, Spikestar pinned her down and raked his fangs across her throat. Splitstar let out a gurgling yowl as blood spurted from the slash marks. Spikestar held his head up high as the other leader’s eyes slowly closed.

“You see, RiverClan, there is no use in fighting against me,” he said. “I have killed your deputy and taken one of your leader’s lives. I’ll take them all, until she is dead for good. Then I’ll kill every single warrior in your Clan, ThunderClan and WindClan, until only ShadowClan is left and we have the whole lake to ourselves. Unless of course, you surrender…then you can become a part of my Clan.”

“Never!” howled Appleflash.

“So be it,” said Spikestar, lashing his tail. “Enjoy the time you have left being alive, RiverClan.” 

The RiverClan warriors sat around too stunned and injured to do anything as Spikestar led his warriors away. The ShadowClan leader was practically prancing, as if he was proud of what he had done. Slashthroat spat on the limp Splitstar, while Waspflight, Burrclaw, and Stingtail jeered at the defeated warriors. Rowanflame jumped off of Nojaw and ran over to Appleflash. The ginger and sandy tom was licking Brightsplash's pelt, trying to stop her bleeding as she lay unconscious from several huge wounds. Nojaw dizzily stumbled after his Clan mates as they headed home, wishing that Rowanflame had killed him.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts in this chapter.

“Wake up! Spikstar wants a morning patrol!” Slashthroat yowled at the entrance to the warrior’s den. 

Nojaw and his Clan mates got to their paws, blinking the exhaustion from their eyes as they stumbled out into the freezing leaf-bare air. The sky was once again covered in thick, dark clouds—the sun had hardly shown itself since Spikestar had become leader. Three moons after the battle with RiverClan, he was still been adamant about patrolling the territory several times a day and expanding the borders. Almost every time a patrol went out, they came back with scratches and bite marks. ShadowClan could not even attend Gatherings anymore, as the other three Clans had made it clear that they wanted Spikestar dead. He’d said that there was no need for Gatherings now anyways, as eventually he would kill every one of ShadowClan’s enemies and they’d be the only Clan left. Just a few sunrises ago, they’d launched a brutal attack on ThunderClan, in which Spikestar had taken one of Flarestar’s lives. 

_I hope I’m the next one to die,_ Nojaw thought, a sense of hollowness overwhelming him as he looked up at the dark sky. He wondered what Newtstripe and Jasmineheart would be doing if they were still here. Perhaps they would try to stop Spikestar. Nojaw looked back down at the ground. Why was he even bothering thinking about this? They were dead. 

The snow covered camp was silent, save for the tiny mewls of Paleheart’s kits coming from the nursery. No one said a word as Slashthroat chose warriors for the morning patrol. Everyone looked barely alive—their eyes were empty and their matted fur clung to their protruding bones. Prey had gone scarce again, but Spiksetar was prioritizing guarding the territory over hunting. There was never any time to rest or eat properly in between being sent out on patrols. Nojaw slowly trudged out of the camp with Spottedtalon, Mintwhisker, and Tanleaf. He winced at the cold air stung at the tattered flesh beneath his muzzle, which had been badly clawed by a ThunderClan warrior. A small finch suddenly appeared nearby. Tanleaf gave a weak jump towards it, startling the bird, which fluttered away. The pale brown tom hung his head and let out a defeated moan.

_Are we all going to die?_ Nojaw thought. _I won’t be surprised if we were all dead by new-leaf._

More somber thoughts flooded his mind as he followed the patrol.

_How long are Paleheart’s kits going to live? Will they starve before they become apprentices, or be slain in their first battle?_

Nojaw remembered his very first leaf-bare, when he and Aspenpaw had tumbled around in the snow without a care in the world while Glowpelt watched them lovingly. He’d lost his mother, brother, jaw, and his will to live, but had gained the last one back and worked harder than any apprentice ever had to prove himself worthy. Nojaw had become one of the most feared, respected warriors in the Clans. But none of that mattered anymore—what had been the point of him surviving, if his life had now become nothing but suffering?   
He should have died along with Aspenpaw on that day the dogs had attacked them. 

Suddenly, Nojaw realized he was alone. He’d been so deep in his thoughts that he’d wandered away from the rest of the patrol. He was standing quite near the ThunderClan border. The clearing where he’d once fought the dogs was visible from here, now completely covered in snow. Nojaw began to head that way. If he walked into ThunderClan’s territory, a patrol would quickly find him. He hoped they would kill him quickly, too.

His paws lightly crunched in the snow as he wandered into the clearing. The big, bushy trees were dappled with patches of the thick, powdery whiteness. Sunlight shone through a tiny crack in the clouds up above, creating a small area of snow that sparkled brightly. Nojaw stood there for a few moments, finding it all beautifully calm. Then, he headed into the dark forest, eager for the end to arrive. He wouldn’t fight back against the ThunderClan warriors—he was too weak to do so even if he wanted to. Whatever they did to him, all he wanted was for it to be over fast. 

_I’ve lived the most pointless life of any cat,_ Nojaw thought as he stepped on a twig, making it snap loudly in half to summon any patrols that were nearby. Well, perhaps it hadn’t been completely pointless—if there was still any future for the Clans, he’d probably be regarded as a legend, talked about by elders to kits and apprentices, who would want to grow up to have his courage and strength. 

_I hope someone is able to overthrow Spikestar,_ he hoped as he walked past a spiky bush. Suddenly, he stopped. Bright red berries dotted the needle-like leaves. Nojaw knew what those were—they were deathberries, far too poisonous for any cat to eat. He’d heard that they killed quickly. He reached out a paw and gathered a few of them on his claws. Red juice dribbled out from them, dripping into the snow like blood. They looked small enough for Nojaw to be able to swallow whole.

_Mother…Aspenpaw…Newtstripe…and Jasmineheart…I’ll see you soon,_ he thought as he lifted the berries to his mouth. 

“Nojaw!?” 

The voice completely startled him. Nojaw jumped around, his white fur bristling. Standing before him was the ThunderClan warrior Cloverheart. He recognized her pale gray tabby coat and green eyes immediately. She’d grown quite a lot. Her fur was no longer kitten soft, but sleek and glossy, and strong looking muscles rippled under her pelt.

“Nojaw, what are you doing here?” she said, dropping her voice. “What are you doing with those berries? Don’t you know they’re deathberries?”

Nojaw nodded.

Cloverheart’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to… _eat_ them, are you!?” she whispered.

Nojaw nodded again. Suddenly, Cloverheart reached out and gave his paw a fierce smack with her own, sending the deathberries scattering.

“Nojaw, you can’t!” she hissed, her green eyes blazing. “I can’t even imagine what things in ShadowClan are like right now…but you can’t give up! Your Clan mates need you!”

Nojaw stared at her, his paws trembling. 

“You are one of the strongest warriors in the Clans,” said Cloverheart, her voice softening. “I know that for a fact. If anyone can take Spikestar down, it’s you. Please, go back home…and protect your Clan mates.” 

Nojaw hung his head…how in StarClan could he ever defeat Spikestar? Then, he remembered that day that he had fallen beneath the ice, and heard the spirit of his mother talking to him.

_You must survive, Nojaw. The future of ShadowClan depends on you._

He had brought down Rambo, Nightstrike, and those cruel Twolegs. And now, it was time for him to defeat Spikestar. StarClan had foreseen it happening. Even if he had to kill him nine times…there was no one else more capable of doing so than him. 

Nojaw looked Cloverheart in the eyes, and slowly nodded. 

“I know that Newtstripe is dead,” she said gently. “And I’m sorry. But he would want you to continue living, and help ShadowClan get back to the way it should be.”

Nojaw gave a quiet, but grateful purr. She was right—how could he have been such an idiot?

Cloverheart touched her nose to his. “You’d better get going,” she said. “I was on a patrol when I picked up your scent…they’ll be passing through here soon.”

Nojaw went running back towards the ShadowClan border, a newfound energy spreading through him. He still felt miserable, but he used that misery to fuel his determination. 

_Your days are numbered, Spikestar,_ he snarled silently. 

Nojaw crossed the border and slipped back into the pine forest. He hoped the patrol hadn’t returned to camp yet, and that Slashthroat or someone else hadn’t been sent out to find him…

“Oof!” Nojaw accidentally slammed into Spottedtalon, nearly knocking the speckled tom over. 

“Nojaw, where have you been?” he hissed. “We were getting worried!”

“You weren’t trying to…run away, were you?” Tanleaf asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Nojaw hung his head and gave an apologetic mew. He felt a tail wrap around his shoulders, and looked up to see Mintwhisker beside him.

“I know everything is rough right now,” the older warrior said. “We’re hungry, and we’ve lost so many cats…” His voice trailed off, as he was obviously thinking about Jasmineheart. 

Then, Mintwhisker narrowed his eyes and whispered, “But we must remain strong, Nojaw. We are discussing overthrowing Spikestar.”

Nojaw gasped. 

“We’re not quite sure how we’re going to do it yet,” said Mintwhisker. “We could surround him and kill him multiple times if we could get him alone…but unfortunately he always has Slashthroat or Waspflight with him as a guard.”

Spottedtalon nodded. “My brother didn’t die for ShadowClan to be overtaken by a fox-hearted excuse for a cat,” he said, sliding out his claws. 

“I think Daycloud and Robinclaw will probably agree with us,” said Tanleaf. “I just hope we can come up with a plan without those who like Spikestar overhearing us.”

“One way or another, we’ll get rid of him,” Mintwhisker growled. He looked to Nojaw. “Are you in?”

Nojaw narrowed his eyes and nodded. 

“Good. Now we’d better get back to camp—we’ve been out for a long time, and we don’t want Spikestar to get suspicious,” said Mintwhisker. 

Nojaw looked back in the direction of the ThunderClan border as they made their way back. If he’d gone through with eating the deathberries, he wouldn’t have realized that his Clan mates hadn’t given up, and he wasn’t alone.

_Thank you, Cloverheart._


	36. Chapter 36

A full moon hung in the sky, bathing the pine forest in its silvery light. Nojaw hobbled alongside his Clan mates towards the camp entrance, a mole skewered on his claws. He was grateful that he was able to find and catch something for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Although it was the middle of the night, Spikestar wanted patrols out, as tonight was the Gathering, and he was paranoid that the other three Clans could be planning a surprise attack. He’d sent Nojaw and some others towards the ThunderClan border, while he himself had gone with Waspflight and Slashthroat towards the RiverClan border. Burrclaw and Stingtail had been left to guard the camp entrance. 

“No trouble while we were gone, I presume?” Mintwhisker asked them.

“Do you see any dead bodies of enemy cats lying around?” Stingtail spat. “If they’d come anywhere near here, we would have shredded them in an instant.”

Nojaw bounded over towards the nursery, where Paleheart was dozing with her two kits curled up beside her. She opened an eye as Nojaw placed the mole in front of her. 

“Oh, thank you, Nojaw!” she purred, her eyes lighting up at the sight of prey. “It’s nice and fat—what a lucky find!”

Mintwhisker then poked his head into the nursery, and frowned. 

“What’s wrong?” Paleheart asked her mate. 

“I thought Tanleaf might be in here visiting you,” he said quietly. “He isn’t in the warrior’s den, either.”

Paleheart’s fur bristled with slight alarm. “Maybe he’s left the camp to make dirt?” she suggested. 

Mintwhisker sighed. “I’ll check around the camp for him again.” 

Suddenly, there came several noises from outside—angry growls and shouts, a whimper, and then the high-pitched mewling of kits. Nojaw and Mintwhisker turned and ran out of the nursery, their pelts bristling with alarm as they took in the scene unfolding before them.

Spikestar was dragging a cat by the scruff into the clearing. Staggering beside him, his whole body trembling violently and eyes round, was Tanleaf. Slashthroat and Waspflight were each carrying a very small kit—their fur was wet and plastered to their skin, and their little pink mouths were open and wailing. They looked like they had just been born! 

Spikestar flung the cat he’d been dragging into the snow, baring his fangs at her in a frightening snarl.

“Please don’t hurt my kits!” she sobbed, her voice high-pitched with terror. Nojaw recognized her as a RiverClan warrior that Tanleaf sometimes talked to at Gatherings. He looked over at the kits—one was silver and white like her, and the other was pale brown like Tanleaf. Nojaw’s heart jolted as he quickly realized what was going on.

“Everyone, gather around for a clan meeting!” Spikestar boomed. Daycloud and Robinclaw emerged from the warrior’s den, their sleepy expressions quickly turning to alarmed ones as they approached the unusual sight. 

“Spikestar, please…” said Tanleaf in a quivering voice. 

“SHUT UP, TRAITOR!” Spikestar roared, causing the tom to jump back a few tail-lengths.

“Everyone, look at what damage Tanleaf has done!” The ShadowClan leader trembled with fury, his voice choked with disgust. “My patrol found him with Willowsky of RiverClan, over by the border. She was giving birth to his kits!”

Gasps of shock rang out around the camp. Paleheart came running out of the nursery.

“Please, Spikestar!” she cried. “Whatever Tanleaf has done…”

“QUIET!” Spikestar screeched. Burrclaw and Stingtail came over to Tanleaf and pushed him hard into the snow. Willowsky moaned and trembled.

“Tanleaf is a traitor,” Spikestar snarled. “He has tainted ShadowClan’s name by producing half-breed kits! He must be punished!” 

“We’d be glad to kill him!” Stingtail offered.

“No, I have a better idea.” Spikestar’s eyes glittered with malice as the kits’ cries grew louder. “Let’s kill Willowsky and the kits in front of him.”

“NO!” Tanleaf screamed, snapping his head up from out of the snow. “Spikestar, please, punish me instead! Leave her and the kits alone!” 

“Spikestar, please, don’t!” Mintwhisker exclaimed. “Tanleaf and Willowsky may have broken the warrior code, but their kits are innocent!”

Spikestar ignored him. “Slashthroat, Waspflight, bring the kits over!” 

“No, no!” Tanleaf struggled against Burrclaw and Stingtail. Both had to use all four of their paws to keep him still.

“You can kill me, but please…don’t…don’t kill the kits!” Willowsky sputtered.

“SHUT UP!” Spikestar cuffed her hard across the muzzle. She shrieked in pain and looked to Tanleaf, her blue eyes bulging out of her head in fear. Slashthroat and Waspflight placed the kits next to their mother. 

“Take one last look at your family, Tanleaf,” Spikestar told him. “Keep your eyes open—I want you to watch me tear them to pieces.”

Suddenly, a wild scream split the air. Nojaw became a white blur as he sprang onto Spikestar’s back, digging his claws deep into the leader’s spiky ginger fur. With a furious roar, Spikestar recoiled away from Willowsky and the kits. Nojaw jumped off of Spikestar and swiftly clawed him twice across the face, his claws tearing loudly through the flesh. 

Spikestar let out an odd, shaky mrrow of laughter as his blood dripped into the snow. “Do you really think you can stop me, Nojaw?” he said with an amused purr. “I have nine lives, and you only have one. You’re wasting your time. After I kill you, I am going to kill Willowsky and her filthy kits. There’s nothing you can do to prevent that.”

Nojaw leaped out of the way as Spikestar jumped at him. He raked his claws along the ShadowClan leader’s side, but suddenly, they were caught in the thick fur. He was helpless as Spikestar bowled him over and pinned him down to the ground. 

_It’s over, I’m dead,_ Nojaw thought. As Spikestar leered above him, his life seemed to flash before his eyes—Nojaw saw himself as a kit again, bouncing through the snow with Aspenpaw, curling up in the nursery with Glowpelt, and listening to stories from the elders…

Suddenly, for some reason, he remembered one story that they’d told him, about Tigerstar's grandfather. 

“Scourge used his claws to rip him open from throat to tail.” Mistcloud’s voice echoed in his ears. “The wound was so great, that Tigerstar lost all nine of his lives at once.”

Nojaw let himself go limp. When Spikestar’s fangs were less than a whisker length from his throat, he sharply kicked him in the gut. Spikestar staggered off of Nojaw with a surprised grunt. The white cat sprang to his paws. He and Spikestar circled each other, growling ferociously, neither one of them daring to take their eyes off the other. Spikestar jumped at Nojaw first, but the latter sprang out of the way, managing to claw an enormous gash in Spikestar’s shoulder. The leader screeched as he staggered backwards. Nojaw stood up on his hind legs and gave Spikestar a hard shove with his forepaws, sending him sprawling over on his back.

_Now!_ he told himself. 

In one quick movement, Nojaw plunged his claws down into Spikestar’s throat, and ran them all the way across his stomach, slicing him down to the tail. He was not prepared for the scream that Spikestar let out—he scrabbled backwards from the leader, watching in horror as a massive cloud of blood burst from the ShadowClan leader's body. He thrashed his limbs, eyes rolling back in his head as the agonized scream kept growing louder and louder, until his mouth filled up with blood. Spikestar choked, red bubbles forming in his mouth as he tried to scream some more. He spat up a huge spurt as even more blood spread out in a puddle around him. His body violently convulsed, his head jerked backwards, and then he was still. A few heartbeats later, his eyes snapped open again, and the horrible scream-gurgle continued. 

“Spikestar!” Waspflight wailed, running to her leader’s side. She looked over to where Quietsnow and Honeyripple were frozen to the spot.

“Don’t just stand there, do something!” she screeched at the medicine cats. 

“I…I don’t think we can do anything,” Quietsnow stammered. “This wound is too great…even StarClan cannot heal it.”

Waspflight flung herself at Nojaw. “MURDERER!” she screamed. Suddenly, Mintwhisker was there, jumping in between them and swiftly knocking the tabby she-cat to the ground. Slashthroat then lunged at Nojaw, but Spottedtalon pounced on him. With a mighty heave, Tanleaf shoved Burrclaw and Stingtail off of him, sending them tumbling through the snow. Tanleaf ran to his mate and kits, standing over them protectively as the clearing exploded with the screams and snarls of cats fighting to kill. Sagetail and Briarheart grappled with Burrclaw and Stingtail, while Robinclaw, Daycloud, and Paleheart stood around Nojaw, preventing any cats from coming near him. Spikestar became silent once more, and then a few moments later, reanimated, writhing on the ground again.

_StarClan, please, end his pain already,_ Nojaw prayed silently.

Slashthroat screamed as Spottedtalon slammed his muzzle down into the snow. The mottled tom clamped his jaws hard down on the back of Slashthroat’s neck, a sickening crack ringing out as his teeth crunched through bone.

“Slashthroat, no!” Waspflight sobbed, going limp under Mintwhisker as her will to fight was quickly extinguished.

Burrclaw and Stingtail cried out for their father, trying to run to him, but were stopped by the snarling Sagetail and Briarheart. Both had done quite a lot of damage to Slashthroat’s kits—one of Burrclaw’s eyes was shut and covered in blood, and Stingtail was missing an ear. They collapsed against each other in grief and pain. As they did, Spikestar stopped screaming. For several long moments, everyone was quiet, holding their breaths as they stared at the leader’s bloodstained body, waiting for him re-awaken. His entrails poked out through the long slit in his body, and his tongue dangled limply from his mouth. After what seemed like forever, he still hadn’t woken up again. 

“Is he gone?” Paleheart whispered. “He had nine lives…did he lose them already?” 

“He didn’t have nine lives.” That came from Quiestnow. Everyone gasped in shock as the medicine cat walked over to Spikestar’s body. Looking down at the fallen leader, she said, “Spikestar was only granted three lives. Most of StarClan did not trust him.” 

“So, he…he’s dead for good now?” That tiny voice came from Willowsky.

Quietsnow nodded. “He’s dead for good now.” 

Victorious howls rang through the camp, mingled with the despairing wails coming from Waspflight, Burrclaw, and Stingtail. 

“He’s gone, at last!”

“Well done, Nojaw!”

“Nojaw! Nojaw!” Several warriors chanted. 

Nojaw sank down on his haunches, a mixture of pride and horror overwhelming him. He’d done it, he’d saved ShadowClan…yet bile rose in his throat as he still stared at Spikestar’s mangled body. He hoped he would never have to do that to another cat ever again.

Tanleaf was crouched over Willowsky and his kits, covering his mate in comforting licks. The kits pressed against Willowsky, squeaking and mewling.

“It’s going to be okay,” said Tanleaf in between shaky breaths. “You and the kits are safe, you’re okay.”

“Fools!” Waspflight spat, lying on the ground half-conscious as blood spilled from a wound on her side. “Now you’re without a leader and a deputy again.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can find replacements,” said Briarheart. “Ones that StarClan will grant a full set of lives to.”

“I am sorry, everyone,” Quietsnow said with a heavy sigh. “This is all my fault…I did not want Spikestar to become leader…but when we got to the Moonstone, he threatened to kill Honeyripple if I did not let him speak to StarClan.”

Honeyripple let out a horrified gasp. “Oh, Quietsnow…you still should have said no!” she breathed.

“Had it been my life that he threatened, I wouldn’t have let him do it,” Quietsnow told her apprentice. Turning back to the rest of ShadowClan, she said, “He also threatened to kill her had I told the Clan that he only had three lives. I was hoping that he would be reckless and lose these three lives quickly…and well, I got my wish.”

“But who are going to be our next leader and deputy?” said Sagetail.

“Well…I suppose we’ll have to wait on a sign from StarClan,” said Quietsnow. “Hopefully they’ll tell us soon.” 

Mintwhisker hauled Waspflight to her paws by her scruff. “You and your kits get out of here, and never come back,” he snarled. 

“You’re not the leader!” she screeched, blood oozing through her gold and black tabby fur. “You can’t exile us!” She looked towards Daycloud and Robinclaw, suddenly looking helpless.

“Mother, Father, please…don’t let them exile me,” she whimpered.

“You’re no daughter of mine,” Robinclaw hissed. “Get out of here.” 

Daycloud hung her head. With a gentle sob, she said, “You…you need to go, Waspflight.”

Honeyripple walked over to comfort her mother as she watched her sister and her kits stumble towards the ShadowClan entrance. 

“I hope you all die slowly and painfully!” Waspflight turned and yowled to her former Clan mates. Then, she and her kits disappeared through the thorny tunnel.

“Willowsky,” said Quietsnow gently, coming over to the RiverClan queen. “I’ll escort you home. Your Clan mates are probably back from the Gathering now and wondering where you are.”

“Please, let me come too,” said Tanleaf, getting to his paws. “This is all my fault…I need to explain to RiverClan what has happened.”

“I…I hope they don’t exile me and the kits,” said Willowsky in a trembling voice.

“I’m sure they won’t,” said Tanleaf soothingly, running his tongue over her ear. “Splitstar might be upset with you and me, but I know she won’t take it out on our kits.”

“Honeyripple, stay here and tend to everyone’s wounds,” said Quietsnow. “When I get back, we’ll go tell ThunderClan that Spikestar is dead. I’ll ask Pebblecreek to tell WindClan, since RiverClan is closer to them.”

 

The following dawn was a beautiful one—the sky cast pink, orange, and creamy lights across the clearing. The sun glowed golden as it slowly rose up from the horizon. It seemed that even StarClan was celebrating the death of Spikestar. His body was removed from the clearing and hastily buried—although the giant puddle of blood where he’d been slain remained. Quietsnow came back with Tanleaf, who looked sad. Nojaw felt a stab of pity for his Clan mate—now that both ShadowClan and RiverClan knew about him and Willowsky, they probably wouldn’t be able to see each other anymore. At least Willowsky and the kits were still alive. 

“Gah!” Quietsnow let out an irritated grunt, wiping at her face with a paw. “There must be a lot of mint growing in RiverClan’s territory—I have bits of it all over my whiskers.”

Suddenly, the medicine cat froze, her gray eyes widening.

“Oh…” she said in almost a whisper. “Oh…it’s a sign from StarClan…”

She got up and walked over to the nursery, where Mintwhisker was emerging after checking on his kits. 

“Mintwhisker…I think StarClan has chosen you to be ShadowClan’s next leader,” Quietsnow told him. 

The gray tom’s jaw dropped as his pale green eyes fluttered with bewilderment. “Me?” he whispered loudly.

Quietsnow nodded.

Mintwhisker was quiet for a few more moments, and then bowed his head. “I would be honored to become leader.”

“Mintstar! Mintstar!” Tanleaf yowled his father’s name. He was joined by the rest of the Clan, as they chanted the senior warrior’s new name. 

Nojaw looked up at the rosy sky. 

_I’m sorry I thought you abandoned us, StarClan,_ he silently apologized, seeing the twinkle of a few faint stars. _You’ve been right here, all along._


	37. Chapter 37

“Ha! I caught a bigger lizard than you did!” 

“No, mine is bigger!” 

Nojaw watched Paleheart’s kits, who had just become apprentices, arguing with each other. Murkypaw fluffed out his spiky grayish-brown fur defensively, glaring at his brother, Newtpaw. Paleheart had named the little pale brown tabby in memory of her brother. 

“Alright, break it up!” Spottedtalon separated the two apprentices as they began to tussle. “If you don’t go put your lizards on the fresh-kill pile right now, I’ll have you picking fleas off the elders for the rest of the day!” 

“Yes, he’s serious. He made me do it once!” Tanleaf, who was nearby, told his younger brothers. 

Nojaw purred with amusement as Murkypaw and Newtpaw hurried over to the pile carrying their lizards. Spottedtalon was mentoring Murkypaw, while Sagetail was mentoring Newtpaw. Tanleaf gazed at his brothers with a sad look…he was probably thinking about his own kits, Owlpaw and Creekpaw, who had just started their training over in RiverClan. Although he was allowed to see them at Gatherings, Nojaw could tell that Tanleaf wished that they and Willowsky lived here in ShadowClan with him. 

Nojaw rested his head on his forepaws, relaxing in the shade of the elder’s den, which had been rebuilt. It was a very hot green-leaf, but the thick bramble screen provided great protection against the heat. Nojaw, along with Quietsnow, had retired. Quietsnow was old now, but Nojaw had been growing ill since shortly after he’d defeated Spikestar. He was tired all the time, to the point where he couldn’t keep up on patrols anymore. He’d been rapidly losing weight, and found it hard to keep food down. Patches of fur were falling out of his coat, and he often got short of breath. Neither Quietsnow nor Honeyripple knew what disease had afflicted him, but they’d been doing their best to keep him comfortable. Watching his Clan mates go about their day was somehow soothing to Nojaw. 

Over by the nursery, Briarheart was watching her kits tumble around. Their father, Spottedtalon, came to sit beside her, lovingly gazing at his daughter and son. Leopardkit, the she-cat, had mottled golden fur similar to his, while Pinekit had inherited his mother’s dark brown tabby coat. Daycloud came over to the nursery, bringing a vole to Briarheart. Waspflight and her kits hadn’t been seen since their exile—either they were dead or had settled somewhere else. Daycloud-- and Robinclaw too-- clearly missed Waspflight, although they wouldn’t talk about her. Nojaw spotted Robinclaw over by the leader’s tree, talking to Mintstar. He was deputy now. The other Clans had been greatly relieved to hear of Spikestar’s defeat, and there had been nothing but peace around the lake since. Mintstar had proven to be a very wise, fair ruler—his Clan was now well fed and happy again thanks to him.

Nojaw listened to the squeals of Leopardkit and Pinekit as they played. He closed his eyes, fondly remembering the times that he and Aspenkit used to bounce around like that. Suddenly, he let out a cough. Quietsnow came over and licked at his pelt.

“Are you feeling alright today, Nojaw?” Concern crept into the retired medicine cat’s voice. “Your pelt feels hot…I’ll go see if Honeyripple has any moss I can soak in some cool water.” 

Nojaw lay there as she got up, listening to the hum of insects and chatter among his Clan mates as they shared tongues. Suddenly, all the sounds began to grow oddly distant. He twitched his ears, but they still sounded muffled. 

“Hey, Nojaw,” a clear voice suddenly said.

Nojaw’s head shot up, and he gasped. A small gray tom was standing there looking at him. No, it wasn’t possible…

“I’ve missed you,” Aspenpaw purred. 

Nojaw blinked, but his brother did not disappear. How was he here?? 

“Well, it’s not really me that’s here, it’s just my spirit,” said Aspenpaw, as if he were reading Nojaw’s thoughts. His pelt was somewhat transparent, with foliage showing through it and a strange silvery outline glowing around him.

“Anyways,” said Aspenpaw, sitting down and scratching at his side. “I came here to ask if you’d like to come to StarClan with me. You won’t believe how big it is! Oh, and a lot of cats there are waiting for you.” 

Nojaw stared at Aspenpaw and then looked towards his Clan mates, then back at his brother again. ShadowClan was okay…they’d thrive without him. He’d done his part. He coughed as his throat tightened up again. It would be nice to not have this sickness anymore. He looked Aspenpaw in the eyes and nodded.

“Alright then, let’s go.” Aspenpaw got to his paws and kinked his tail over his back. Nojaw tilted his head in confusion. 

“Just follow me,” he said. 

No one seemed to notice Aspenpaw as Nojaw followed his brother across the clearing. He gave the camp one last look before heading through the thorn tunnel with Aspenpaw--and was startled to realize that he saw a white cat lying limply in the elder's den. Was that him?? 

"Come on. You don't need your body anymore," Aspenpaw coaxed. 

Nojaw slowly followed his brother through the camp exit. 

“Here we are," said ASpenpaw. 

Nojaw staggered backwards in confusion—they were in the same exact place! The ShadowClan camp stretched out before them, looking the same as always. Only…the cats there were different...and up above, the pale blue green-leaf sky was now a light shade of purple, filled with hundreds of dazzling stars. 

“Nojaw!” A cat went running towards him. Nojaw gaped in disbelief as Newtstripe came skidding to a halt, excitedly waving his tail.

“It’s about time you got here, buddy!” he cried. 

“We’ve missed you!” Jasmineheart appeared next to Newtstripe touching her nose to Nojaw’s. 

“Nojaw…oh Nojaw, my kit…” He turned to see the snowy white figure of Glowpelt heading towards him. He found himself choked with purrs as his mother rubbed his head against her. He had missed her warmth and her scent so much…

Looking around the clearing, he recognized many more cats…Strikestone, Strongfoot, Scorchstar, Flamewing, and Tigerstar…they’d all come to greet him. 

“Well, are you gonna say something?” said Newtstripe. 

Nojaw tilted his head in confusion.

“Oh…you still haven’t noticed?” Newtstripe scowled. “Your jaw is back, dummy!”

Nojaw flexed his mouth, feeling an unfamiliar tugging sensation. Sure enough…there was his jaw…perfectly restored. For the first time since he was six moons old, Nojaw spoke. 

“It’s…it’s great to see you all,” he choked.


End file.
